


The Price of Magic

by WhiskeyAdams



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1580543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyAdams/pseuds/WhiskeyAdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: What if the wardrobe only protected Emma from the curse, and did not send her to earth, instead she grew up an orphan in FTL. She subsequently ends up in Storybrooke due to a turn of events that will be revealed as the story progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who Are You?

Her memories were slipping between her fingers, and the harder she tried to cling to them, the more intangible they became until she could no longer remember why she needed to hold on to them to begin with.

_“Good luck, my child.” A croaking voice chuckled, bringing with it the smell of rotting wood and a vague sense of dread, “You shall surely need it.”_

_She blinked into the blinding light, up at the old woman smiling down at her, a hooked nose, deep wrinkles, dead brown eyes, and when the crone smiled, it revealed mostly empty gums, interrupted occasionally by chipped, yellow teeth._

_The young woman pulled back in fear at the sight, but when her hands shot out behind her to brace her fall, she found herself tumbling further and further into swirling purple madness, the sound of the hag laughing chasing her as she went._

_Lightning flashed around, and she opened her mouth to scream, but the sound was sucked from her chest._

_Just when it was nearly too much for her to handle, it came to an abrupt halt, and awareness slammed down around her._

_She had time to suck in one shuttering breath, blink back the tears that threatened to spill, time only to realize she was moving still, only now it was forward, the smell of leather and something unidentifiable, but unpleasant assaulted her olfactory senses. It was dark and the sound of rain surrounded her, but she seemed to be protected somehow from the elements._

_She had time to look up, time to see the giant looming object she was being hurtled towards just before she made impact, the sound of protesting metal and shattering glass was heard before a pain exploded in her head, and the darkness consumed her._

* * *

Jim Knight wasn’t sure how he ended up at the edge of Storybrooke.

The gym teacher had been anxiously pacing his apartment, unable to calm his racing thoughts, he got in his car and drove most of the night away, not realizing her had reached the outskirts of the small town until the town sign came into view.

But wait, something was wrong. A flash of yellow caught his eye in the pouring rain, and when he turned the radio down, he could hear the sound of someone leaning on their horn.

He pulled his car close to the wrecked little VW bug and stepped out, squinting to try and catch a glimpse of what might be behind the spiderwebbed windshield. He groaned as he looked at the sign, then back over his shoulder before glancing at the car once more.

“This isn’t my problem,” he argued with the urge he felt to check on the well-being of the driver, “This could be a trap,” he tried again, but his feet were already moving for the driver’s side of the vehicle.

It took a heavy tug to pull against the door, wrenching it open. He looked over the mess of blonde hair of the female driver, biting his lip as he slowly reached forward, placing a hand on her shoulder and pushing her back so she was off the horn.

The sudden silence was deafening.

With a trembling hand, he brushed the curls away to reveal a face that was bloody and broken from its encounter with the steering wheel.

“Ohgodohgodohgod,” he huffed as he placed two fingers on her neck, if he didn’t feel a pulse, he was sure he was going to be sick.

Luckily, it was there, and Jim could breathe easier for a moment as he decided on his next course of action. Call the sheriff?

No, the chances of Graham being awake at this hour were slim to none. The sheriff of a sleepy town in Maine hardly had to be on call 24/7.

Apparently, this didn’t matter anyhow, seeing as his body had started moving once more without him having told it to do so. He was reaching over the unconscious body, tugging the seat belt lose and pulling her into his arms, grateful she wasn’t all that heavy.

He slipped twice on the slick, wet roads, catching himself each time, until he had to shift her weight and open the rear door of his car.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take an eternity, but before he knew it, he was stumbling through the bay doors with the woman cradled in his arms, head lolling back as he grunted a plea for help.

Hands were on him then, questions shouted too close to his ear for his liking as Dr. Whale began to order people around.

Now that Jim had gotten the woman to the hospital, exhaustion shrouded him. Without answering any questions, he turned and walked away, back to his car, craving his bed and wondering if he should even call in sick for the day, or if anyone at the school would miss him.

* * *

“Is she awake?” Regina demanded as soon as she arrived at the hospital.

Watching the hospital staff scurry about like frightened field mice un her presence was almost enough to take the edge off the annoyance she was feeling since receiving the phone call at an unholy hour. She was the Mayor for God’s sake, why should one hospitalized girl concern her? She nearly slammed the phone back down, but her hand was stayed when she was informed that she was a Jane Doe, someone from outside the town.

“That’s impossible.” She had murmured to herself as she went about her morning routine with barely a thought. No outsiders had ever stumbled upon Storybrooke. Not for the last twenty eight years. It was part of the curse she had enacted. She didn’t want to risk exposing them.

In their time here, there had only been one new addition, and he was sitting at her kitchen table, trying his hardest not to nod off into his cheerios as she told him the plans for the day: Kathryn’s until his appointment with his therapist, then tutors until it was time for him to start his riding lessons at the stables.

She loved Henry more than she thought would be possible the day they put him in her arms and she knew the adoption was final. However, it was beginning to get tricky raising him in a cursed town where no one seemed to be aging aside from him. Added to the fact that since finding out he was adopted, a wedge had developed between Regina and her son, she was ready to crush the first obstacle stupid enough to present itself to her.

Dr. Whale was taking a sip from his hidden flask, trying to summon the courage it would take to face the irritated Mayor. His last encounter with her, a failed attempt to get her to go out with him, had left him licking the wounds inflicted to his ego for days.

“Doctor,” Regina snapped, causing the white coat clad man to start and pin on his heels, face paled under her scrutiny, “I hope for your sake that you did not call me here to waste my time and will, in fact, take me to see this unconscious woman.”

“Ye-yes of course, right this way Madam Mayor,” he ushered her with a trembling had to the room at the end of the patient wing they were standing in.

She knew that there was a man in a coma who had taken up residence in this room for the last twenty eight years, she smiled knowing why he was there and silently applauding her own genius way of keeping him and his “True Love” apart indefinitely.

He was sharing his observation room now, with another apparently comatose patient. Regina walked by his prostrate form, fingers lightly tracing his arm, before moving to the other bed a few feet away.

Whale noticed her small detour and mistook the expression in her face, “We had a shortage of private rooms and bed space available… this was the only place we could keep an eye on her until she wakes up…” he trailed off, withering under the glare of the Mayor.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to her?” Regina went on as she stood at the woman’s side, eyes carefully tracing over the woman who had thrown her off her schedule that day, “Or am I to guess by the injuries I’m looking at?”

It was true, the woman’s face was sporting some wicked black and blue bruises, and she could see smears of blood here and there that had been missed by whatever nurse had been tasked with cleaning her up, as well as bits of glass caught in the riotous blonde locks fanned out around her.

Regina grimaced, making a mental note to fire whatever nurse thought they could get away with a half assed job in her town.

“Well?” The Mayor snapped, impatience mounting.

“Right,” Dr. Whale held the patient’s chart against his chest as a shield between them, “It seems our Jane Doe was driving in the rain last night, and lost control of her car before crashing into the town sign.” Regina’s eyes tightened at the mention of the sign and the implication’s that it had not fared well, Dr. Whale hurried on, “She sustained a blow to the head from the steering wheel, several superficial lacerations, and a fractured cheek bone. She had no forms of identification on her, and we were waiting for Sheriff Graham to get back to us once he gets done at the accident.”

“Why, then, did you feel the need to contact the Mayor?” Regina tore her eyes away from studying the strangely peaceful look to the woman’s features, there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she couldn’t seem to dispel.

“Well…” he drew out the word, “She clearly has no emergency contact, and we don’t know if she has insurance or any liability factors so-,”

“So you need my permission before you make a mistake.” Regina finished with a disdainful huff, “Right, do a full work up on her, we shall figure out the billing issue should she awaken. Now if you’ll excuse me-,”

She began to take a step away from the bed when warm fingers intertwined with where she had left hers on the hospital bed. Her eyes followed the path from the offending fingers, to the pale wrist, arm shoulder, neck until she finally arrived at the contorted look of pain on the woman whose eyes were still shut, though it seemed she was making an effort to open them.

Regina returned to her former station by the woman’s side as she watched the fight. She seemed to win out, as green eyes, glassy and dilated from drugs and a concussion, blinked and tried to focus up at Regina.

“Where?” she tired, her voice too weak to be made much of. The woman licked her lips and cleared her throat.

Without thinking, Regina reached for the water just that rested on the table between the two patients, filling a small cup with the contents before handing it to the woman who smiled her thanks. The entire exchange made without sacrificing their intertwined fingers- not that either woman noticed.

“Where am I?” She tried once more, her voice still gruff, but Regina was having trouble figuring out if it was normally like that, or it if was a product of her current state.

“Storybrooke, Maine.” Regina responded, “Do you know what happened?”

The woman shook her head, not taking her eyes, slowly becoming clear, off of Regina’s.

“What’s your name?” Regina tired once more, with patience that surprised the quiet, observing doctor.

The blonde frowned, eyebrows coming together as she seemed to concentrate harder than should be necessary, the Mayor was getting the feeling that the woman couldn’t remember.

“Let’s try something else, what do you remember?” she unconsciously leaned forward slightly, resisting the urge to brush the woman’s hair off her face.

The woman’s eyes flashed, “I remember,” her hands trembled slightly as she licked her lips once more, “I _remember_ …” her eyes screwed shut once more, “I-I can’t…” she shook her head and opened her eyes once more, looking at Regina with a gaze filled with confusion and pain.

“It’ll be alright.” Regina assured her, patting the hand she still held, darting a glance up at Dr. Whale, “I need to speak with your doctor, but I’ll be back…” the Mayor felt strangely reluctant to leave the woman’s side when she looked so fragile, it was reminding her of something that she cared to never remember, “In the meantime… why don’t you get some rest, alright?”

The woman nodded, obediently closing her eyes, the fingers that had been gripping Regina’s so tightly, slowly went slack and the Mayor was able to extract her had. She looked to Whale before nodding her head towards the door, a clear indication that he should follow her once she stepped out.

“What’s wrong with her?” Regina demands, even her whispers causing the man to flinch and feel uncertain.

It isn’t fair really, no one has ever made Victor Whale feel incompetent, not when it came to his work as a doctor and especially not a woman.

“Amnesia,” He supplies with barely a stammer this time, “I suspect it’s form her head trauma.”

“Well, how long until she can remember who she is?” Regina demanded, “I’m sure she’d like to leave our town and return home as soon as possible.” She tacks on at the last minute, not caring for the slight concern she could hear in her own voice.

She rolled her eyes internally, _as if the Evil Queen held concern for a woman she only just met, who destroyed her town sign, no less._

Dr. Whale gave a shrug, forgetting for a moment with whom he was speaking, that is, until her eyes narrowed dangerously at the gesture, “The science surrounding amnesia is a bit… under-discovered. It may be a day, it may be a month, she may never fully recover her memories.”

“I don’t accept that answer,” Regina’s hands were placed firmly on her hips, “How can you go back in there and tell that poor woman that there is nothing you can do for her to assist in regaining her memories?”

“It’s difficult with such a complete… well _tabula rasa_ effect,” Dr. Whale shoved his hand’s in the pockets of his white coat, fingers brushing the cold metal of his flask, a shiver of longing running down his spine for another taste of the liquid courage, “Our Jane Doe is a blank slate, she doesn’t even remember her own name. Her physical recovery will be the easy part. A day in the hospital for observation at most. As for her psychological scaring… only time will tell, Madam Mayor.”

He could tell just by looking in her dark, soulless eyes that she was not happy with his response, so he quickly found himself searching for an escape, and he found it in a ruckus sounding at the end of the hall, “If you’ll excuse me Mayor Mills,” he ducked his head before making his retreat.

Regina ground her teeth together, counting to ten in her head before donning her best political smile and walking back into the observation room holding half of the dynamic duo that, once upon a time, were her sworn enemy, and the woman she felt this strange draw to.

She reclaimed her spot beside the woman, fighting whatever medication she was on and opening he eyes once more, trapping Regina momentarily as she noticed the small flecks of gold in the pools of green.

“I take it the news isn’t good, then?” the woman broke the silence, quirking an eye brow at her, “I mean, judging from your forced smile and the way your hands are picking at the hem of your shirt, I’m pretty screwed, right?”

Regina was taken aback by the woman’s words, the way they tumbled out of her mouth, unbidden, uncensored… no one spoke like that to Regina. It was refreshing. But more than that, it was maddening. It did, however, effectively serve to pull the Mayor out of her stupor.

“Though I do think I could have worded it more eloquently than you,” Regina huffed, “I’m afraid you are correct in your assumption. The doctor tells me you have amnesia, and he can’t say when its effects will wear off.”

“Great,” the woman plopped her head back down on her pillows with a grimace, “That’s just… that’s just my luck. I think, anyway, who knows for certain, right? Not like I have any memories to compare this to…” she grumbled.

“I can assure you, Miss-,” Regina cut herself off, realizing she didn’t know the woman’s name, “I assure you that you will have whatever you need to assist with your amnesia.”

The woman pulled a face, “Does that mean I have to stay in the hospital? I get the distinct feeling I don’t like hospitals.”

“You’ll have to speak with Dr. Whale about that, I’m afraid,” Regina found herself glancing down at her watch out of habit, but noticing the time, she gave a heavy sigh. She had several appointments that morning, none of which she was looking forward to, but couldn’t get out of never the less.

Who would have thought being a small town mayor in the middle-of-no-where-Maine would have been so demanding? Certainly not Regina. It was the same bureaucratic dribble day in and day out over the last twenty eight years. In fact, coming to the hospital to visit the unknown amnesiac was the high light of her week, hell, her month thus far. And that was just… sad.

“Some where you need to be?” the woman asked, tone dripping in sarcasm, but there was a sad light in her eyes that couldn’t be hidden by smiling lips.

Regina straightened, she could not believe she had started to feel sorry for her she was Regina Mills, the Evil Queen, the hard ass Mayor… no, she couldn’t show any sign of weakness. So, instead, she replied in kind.

“Unfortunately, this town does not run itself,” she pulled at the end of the sleeves on her jacket, fixing a non-existent wrinkle in her skirt.

The woman rolled her eyes, “What are you, the Mayor or something?” When their eyes met and she saw she hit her mark, her smile disappeared, her jaw slackened, “Holy shit, you are the Mayor.” Regina quirked an eyebrow at the curse and she immediately scrambled out an apology, “What’s the Mayor doing talking to me? Or do you go around seeing all the patients?”

“Not, usually, no,” she allowed, “You are a… special case.”

“Right, amnesia.” She pointed to her head, “I’m sorry, I’m sure you have a lot of Mayoral stuff you need to handle, I don’t want to keep you.”

“I really must be off,” Regina agreed, taking a step back, but the flash of sadness that passed in the other woman’s eyes had her mouth moving before she could dictate its actions, “But, perhaps I could come by around noon. You’re more likely to get sick from what they dare to call food in this place, I’ll bring you something.”

The woman’s face lit up, though it was clear she was trying not to show how much this gesture meant to her, “Thanks-,” she trailed off with an expectant look.

“Regina,” the Mayor supplied, after a beat.

“Thanks, Regina.” She smiled as she tasted the name on her tongue before giving a mirthless chuckle and rubbing the back of her head with the hand that wasn’t hooked up to an IV and all other sorts of wires, “I know it’s not fair, I don’t have a name to give you.”

“I’m sure we can come up with something to call you.” Regina assured her before forcing her feet to take another step backwards, “For now, I really must be going.”

“I’ll see you later, Regina.” She nodded to her, this time, the sadness was substantially less.

The Mayor turned on her heel and walked out of the room, out of the ward, out of the hospital, verbally berating herself for acting like a hapless moron for reasons she couldn’t understand herself.

Besides, she had enough on her plate for the day, she couldn’t afford to allow herself to be distracted by this Jane Doe. She would burry herself in meetings and paperwork before going to Granny’s to pick lunch up for her lunch date-

 _Date? That’s a bit presumptuous of you, isn’t it?_ That nagging voice in her head that sounded strangely like her mother pestered.

 _It’s just a phrase,_ she growled as she slammed the door of her Benz with a bit more force than necessary, startling Dr. Hopper as he walked his dog.

As petty as it may have been, scaring the old bug made her feel a bit better as she drove to city hall, forcing all thoughts of the blonde amnesiac away for the time being.

* * *

Saturday’s were difficult for Mary Margret Blanchard.

Monday through Friday, she could distract herself with the duties of being a teacher- more time consuming than one would think. Grading papers, calling parent’s, planning lessons, reviewing the extracurricular activities she was in charge of…

In comparison, she had far too much time on her hands on the weekends, so she volunteered at the hospital. Visiting with patients, changing out flowers, hanging up pictures drawn by her students in an attempt to lighten up the place a bit.

When she was focusing on other people, it made it infinitely easier to ignore the lonely nagging she could feel radiate through her entire being. The constant feeling that she was missing something huge, like her entire heart had been ripped from her chest.

So, around ten in the morning as she made her normal rounds through the Trinity Ward of Storybrooke General, Mary Margret went through her normal routine. Checking on patients she knew by name now, having visited the hospital in her free time for the last… well, for as long as she could remember.

The familiar tug that often pulled her to check on the comatose patient at the far end of the ward seemed to be doubly demanding, and she had to consciously force her feet to move at a slower pace, not wanting to finish her rounds a moment before absolutely necessary.

When she did finally make it to John Doe’s room, she noticed the change. He was still fast asleep, but he now had company. It wasn’t a family member or a friend like she and the hospital staff had been waiting for, it was another patient. A blonde woman, who seemed to be in the process of attempting to glare a whole in the ceiling.

“Your face is going to stick like that if you keep it up,” She quipped, startling the woman slightly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” She apologized, noting the spike in her heart rate registered by the machine beside her.

“Hi,” the blonde squeaked, struggling to sit up in her bed.

“Oh! Here, let me help you.” Mary Margret abandoned her cart of flowers and finger paintings and moved to the side of the woman’s bed, lifting the remote from where it sat wedged between the mattress and the metal railings, “You see, if you just push this button, the bed will adjust.”

“Huh,” the woman took the controls form Mary Margret and began to play with the buttons, contorting the bed in different ways for a moment before settling on just having her head lifted so it looked like she was sitting up, “Thanks, you’re the first person I’ve seen in here since the Doc left. I’ve been plotting ways to escape…” she admitted sheepishly.

“Not a fan of hospitals, huh?” Mary Margret smiled, finding herself relaxing despite not knowing the woman with whom she was talking.

“Apparently not.” She grumbled, looking away.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around,” Mary Margret scrambled to fill the awkward silence, “What’s your name? I’m Mary Margret, by the way.”

“That _is_ the million dollar question, isn’t it?” the woman smirked, “I’d phone a friend, but I don’t even know if I have any.”

Mary Margret frowned, “You don’t know your name?”

“Seems I bumped by head while driving,” she gestures to the discoloration on her face she’s sure is there, since she can feel it whenever she forgets and goes to itch her nose or whatever.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

The woman simply shrugs, “I’ve been trying to remember _something_ for the last few hours. But it’s like there’s a big ol’ wall between me and everything.”

“Well now,” Mary Margret moved to sit in the visitors chair, something’s she’s never done while visiting John Doe’s room before, “Let’s see… how about we start with something simple, hm?”

“Simpler than my name?” She challenged wryly.

“Yes,” the teacher nodded, undeterred, “Liiiike, what is your favorite color?”

The woman seemed to consider this seriously glancing around the room until her eyes landed on something she liked, a painting on Mary Margret’s cart that she couldn’t quite make out beyond vague shapes and colors, “Green.”

“See?” Mary Margret smiled, “Now you know something about yourself you didn’t before.”

“I’m practically normal again,” despite the sarcastic words, the smile on the blonde’s face was genuine.

“Small steps,” Mary Margret looked up at the clock on the wall, knowing she still had the children’s ward to visit, not to mention geriatrics and the NICU. “You’ll see, keep taking small steps and soon enough, they’ll turn into big steps.” She rose to her feet.

“Thanks Mary Margret.” The woman smiled, though the expression didn’t reach her eyes, “I’ll be sure to work on that.”

The teacher gave the patient a small wave as she pulled the cart out of the room. She stopped briefly, picking up the painting that had caught the woman’s eye, revealing her favorite color. She strode back in the room quickly, taping it up near her head, “Try and brighten the place up a bit.” She explained with a blush before retreating once more.

She missed the smile that was aimed at her in her haste to leave before she made things more awkward for the poor woman.

* * *

The woman, for her part, was glad for even the smallest change in scenery.

She didn’t know much about herself, but it was becoming clear to herself that she was _not_ built to sit still for long periods of time.

So the painting that Mary Margret put up beside her was studied extensively by her quick eyes. Absorbing the broad strokes of bright color, since she still couldn’t make up much detail.

_Great, apparently she needed glasses._

She filed that fact away, adding it to the measly pile she was accumulating in her mind, the only things she knew about herself. Her favorite color was green, she hated hospitals, she did not like being idle, and she _loathed_ silence.

But that’s what she was stuck with. Her roommate wasn’t very good company, and Mary Margret, who only stayed for five minutes at most, was the only person who she had seen since Dr. Whale poked his head in a few minutes after Regina left.

At the thought of her name, the woman’s eyes roamed once more to the clock in the room, seeing that she still had a good half hour before she should start to expect the Mayor to return with the promised lunch.

She tried to convince herself it was because of the way her stomach was grumbling and _not_ craving the company of the regal Mayor that had her taping her fingers impatiently as she alternated between watching the door and watching the clock.

It was absurd to miss a woman she had spoken very little to. It probably didn’t help that she had spoken only to three people thus far, narrowing the pool of people she could miss. But the Mayor was a conundrum, a puzzle she just couldn’t figure out.

She had learned more about the people visiting her for brief moments then about herself in the hours between.

While Regina had shown kindness and concern, a strange gentleness that seemed to startle the other woman herself, to the blonde, the nurses and doctors seemed to be terrified of her. She had watched through half closed eyes when Regina had spoken to Dr. Whale outside her room. He had cowered under the weight of her gaze and whatever words she was throwing at him.

She thought perhaps the man was innately cowardly, bowing to whomever confronted him, but after the Mayor left, he snuck a sip from a metal flash pulled from his coat before ordering people around and checking on other patients. Her presence was the only thing that seemed to reign in his ego.

So, why then, did Regina treat her with kindness when she seemed to favor intimidation?

The woman turned that over in her head for a few moments before moving on to her other visitor. Mary Margret.

The mousy woman with the pixie cut seemed to have trouble keeping her eyes from wandering to her comatose roommate, even in the short time she was visiting, she counted ten times that Mary Margret let her eyes wander carefully over the John Doe.

It made her wonder if she actually knew him and just didn’t tell anyone, letting them continue to believe no one knew who he was. The blonde squashed that idea almost as soon as it cropped up. It didn’t fit with the woman she watched, the almost motherly way she spoke with the other patients and even to her. Mary Margret wouldn’t do something so intentionally cruel.

Fate seemed to be the only cruel one. How was it that she had the ability to pick up on all these little nuances in others but knew next to nothing about herself? Where was the justice, the _sense_ in that?

Her musings were cut short when the door to her room slid open once more, and she glanced up from her lap to see Regina standing with a brown bag in her hand, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

“You came back,” She tried to tamped down the smile that fought to break out over her face.

“Well, I am a woman of my word, if nothing else.” The Mayor flipped her hair back with her free hand before striding into the room as if she owned it.

“I’m going a little stir crazy in here.” The blonde admitted, playing with the fringe of her blanket before stilling her hands and watching as Regina pulled a tray on wheels to the side of the bed, between the visitors chair Mary Margret had occupied before and the bed.

“I don’t see why, with the stellar company you have,” Regina smirked at her roommate before going about pulling things out of the paper bag, at this distance, the blonde could read _Granny’s Diner_ in bold lettering.

“He’s not very talkative.” She shrugged, “And aside from a volunteer candy striper that came by a couple hours ago, I’ve had no one to talk to.”

“What?” Anger flashed in the Mayor’s eyes as she slammed down the styrofoam container in her hand with a bit too much force, nearly tipping the tray in the process, “I left here nearly six hours ago and no one has come in to check on you?”

The blonde gave a shrug, far too nonchalant for the Mayor’s liking, “Seeing as the only company that would have come of being checked on would have been Dr. Whale, I think I prefer the solitude.”

Regina made a mental note to speak with the good doctor before she returned to work, she didn’t need to worry about the woman any more than she already was. She continued to unpack the lunch, “I hope you like chicken, since I didn’t really know what to get you.”

“Honestly, I’m so hungry I’d eat anything.” Her nose twitched and her mouth watered as the scent of food wafted towards her.

“Have you remembered anything?” Regina asked as soon as they were settled in with their meals, the blonde eating hers with gusto that fascinated Regina much like a car wreck would have.

The woman gave a shrug, swallowing her food before answering aloud, “Nothing of importance. I like the color green, I hate hospitals and sitting still. But I’m seriously sick and tired of trying to dredge up my memories, can we talk about you instead?”

“Me?” Regina repeated back with a confused tilt to her head,

“Yeah,” she took another bite of her food, washing it down with a gulp of water, “What’s _your_ favorite color?”

“Purple,” Regina answered without much thought, surprising herself by even having a preference for something as mundane as a hue.

“I could have guessed as much,” the blonde gave her a lopsided grin.

“How so?” Regina demanded, sitting straighter in her chair.

“Purple, color of power right? Symbolizing royalty,” the blonde went on, shocked by this random knowledge she seemed to possess, “You’re the mayor, obviously a powerful woman. I would have made the conclusion sooner or later.” She nods.

“Those are quite the deduction skills you have,” Regina rolled her eyes, refusing to be impressed.

“You better be careful, Madam Mayor, that amount of snark can’t be healthy for anyone.” She quirked her eyebrow, hiding her smirk behind her glass of water.

Whatever Regina’s reply was, was interrupted by a nurse walking into the room, “I’m sorry, but Dr. Whale gave some forms I need you to sign, Miss.”

She practically tiptoed into the room, avoiding Regina’s glare as she passed the clipboard to the patient. She scurried off as soon as her hands were free, much to the amusement of both women in the room.

“Why are they so afraid of you?” the blonde asked as soon as the door was closed.

“I’ve proved to be a woman who isn’t to be trifled with,” the Mayor adjusted her shirt cuffs, “It isn’t my fault some people seem to be inept and are too witless to handle a reprimand.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” she widened her eyes in mock fear.

“I have a stack of paper work concerning our now severely damaged town sign that says you’re already well on your way there.” Regina frowned at her.

“Right,” a blush spread over her face, “Sorry about that, I’ll pay for it…”

“With what money?” Regina challenged.

“Right,” the blonde repeated, the redness on her cheeks and neck darkening, she focused on the form in front of her, requiring her signature on the bottom of the page, no one seemed to think it was a problem asking the amnesiac for her signature.

“It’s quite alright, dear,” Regina pat her hand in mock comfort, “I’m sure we can find a way for you to pay the town back.”

The blonde snorted, hearing the joking tone in the Mayor’s voice, glancing up to see that, despite the serious set of her face, there was a light in her brown eyes, bringing them to life in a way they didn’t seem to be when she was glaring down the nurses or tearing a new one to the doctor.

Without thinking, her hand moved over the sheet, affixing her signature to the line at the bottom. She wouldn’t have even realized she did it unless Regina’s hand froze on hers, eyes darting to the looped cursive.

“Did you just…?” She trailed off.

“Huh,” the blonde lifted the clipboard, studying the penning, blushing once more, “I, uh, seem to also need glasses, would you mind…” she tilts the form so Regina can read it for her.

“I see your penmanship is atrocious,” the Mayor mumbled, tilting the form to better catch the light, “Emma? The last name’s a bit hard to make out, it looks like an S and a scribble.”

“ _Okay_ ,” she let the word trail on, “So I can’t remember by name, but apparently I can sign it? How does that make any sense?”

“Muscle memory,” Dr. Whale grinned from the door way, his eyes looking less glazed over than when the blonde had seen him last, “We sign our names so often, it becomes imprinted in us, it’s why we do it without having to consciously think of it.” He seemed to smug having come up with this.

What he didn’t say was that it hadn’t really been his idea at all, but Mary Margret’s. She had told him in passing, something she had realized when signing out for the afternoon.

They didn’t need to know that.

“So what is our patient’s name?” He asked, striding into the room with a walk that was cocky enough to be called a swagger, holding his hand out for the clip board still gripped tightly by Regina.

“Emma,” Regina supplied before finally giving it up after a brief glare to put the doctor back in his place.

He squinted at it briefly, “Emma Swan.” He read, the scribbled signature nothing compared to the doctor’s own atrocious writing. It came with the profession, “Does that sound familiar.”

The woman- _Emma_ shrugged, “I honestly have no idea.”

“Well, at least we have something to call you now, Miss Swan,” Dr. Whale smiled as he tucked the clipboard under his arm.

“Emma Swan,” She tried out the words, frowning slightly, waiting for the familiarity to click, for _something_ , hell, a giant freaking neon sign to tell her that this was right. But she just didn’t know.

“Yes, well,” Dr. Whale took a step back, his high slowly fading under the watchful glare of the Mayor, “I’ll leave you to get adjusted to it while I go fill out some forms.”

When the door shut behind him, a silence filled the room, Regina watched the pensive look on the woman’s face, “How does it feel to have a name?”

Emma looked to her, the frown ebbing away slightly, “I dunno, I don’t really feel any different.” Much like the other little discoveries she made about herself, it wasn’t really earth shattering. It didn’t help the wall in her mind, it didn’t fill her with anything but a nagging feeling that this supposed to be every day knowledge and didn’t hold any significance.

“I mean, yeah, apparently I’m _Emma Swan_ ,” she rolled her eyes, “But that doesn’t really tell me who I am, does it?”

She looked so lost, Regina wanted to say something, anything to help her. And that was so out of the Evil Queen’s character that it startled her to her feet, “I’m sure you’ll discover that as well, in due time.”

“You’re leaving?” Emma sat up further, “Already?” her eyes darted to the clock before quickly returning to the Mayor.

“I wasn’t joking about the mountain of paper work waiting for me in the office,” she explained, gathering up the trash from their lunch.

“Right,” Emma nodded, face falling.

“I’ll see you later,” Regina assured her without thinking, just wanting the frown to disappear from her face, “Perhaps tomorrow for lunch?” she offered.

Emma nodded with a small smile, “Sure thing, you’ve got a town to run, go on,” she shooed her a little with a wave of her hand, feeling pathetic that she was relying so much on this woman she didn’t know.

Regina bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, “Good day, Emma Swan.” She spoke softly as she left.

And somehow, when Regina spoke her name, it finally clicked for her. It became _her_ name, simply because she liked the way it sounded in the Mayor’s mouth.

“Bye, Regina.” She smiled in response, settling back in for another few boring hours, already counting the minutes until tomorrows promised lunch.


	2. Welcome to Storybrooke

_Tick… tock… tick… tock… tick… tock…_

Emma leveled a glare at the offending object currently driving her up the wall. The clock seemed to be absurdly loud, to the point of drowning out the whirring of the machines keeping John Doe alive. Louder than the steady beeping of their twin heart monitors. Louder than the thoughts Emma was  _trying_ to have.

Four hours since talking to another human being, four hours without doing anything but twiddle her thumbs, study the painting on her wall, and  _try_ to remember something, it was obviously beginning to rake its toll on the woman. So when she found herself standing and walking to the space just below it, preparing to silence the infernal ticking by any means necessary, she thought it might be best if she get up and walk around, talk to actual people instead of herself, or her ever quiet roommate.

No one told her she couldn't, she reasoned.

She made quick word of the various wires and tubes connected to her, thankful she dind't appear to be squeamish at the sight of needles. In the small faux wooden wardrobe on her end of the room, she found what she assumed to be her belongings. It wasn't much, just the clothes she had been found in. But anything was better than the extremely drafty hospital gown hanging around her.

The faded jeans she was trying-and miserably failing- to put on with any sort of dignity, seemed to be two sizes too small. But she wouldn't let that stop her from walking out of the room now that she was committed to it. So leaning backwards over the bed, sucking in her stomach, and tugging viciously on the belt loops, she finally got them up over her hip bones.

She celebrated the small victory of buttoning them up before moving to the next article of clothing, blessedly easier to get on, seeing as it was only a plain black tank top. The boots were a struggle similar to the skinny jeans. At least, the first boot was, because when she moved on to her left foot, she realized there was a zipper on the side. She nearly smacked herself for putting herself through that the first time.

The red leather jacket she held in her hand now gave her pause. She wasn't sure how she felt about it, such a bold fashion statement. But it wasn't as if she could wander around in only a tank top, so she shrugged and put it on.

As soon as the material settled around her shoulders, she didn't want to take it off,  _ever._  She immediately understood why she owned it. It fit her perfectly, comfortably. It was the right length, and she could easily stick her hands in the pockets- in which she found a few crumpled up twenty dollar bills- the sleeves were the right length, and she didn't feel constricted when crossing her arms over her chest.

Yup, she loved this jacket. A fact about herself she liked the most so far.

She walked into the small private bathroom, standing under the flickering light she studied herself in the mirror, frowning at the discoloration, but more so at the smears of blood still on her face, and at the specks of glass in her tangled blonde mane. A wave of embarrassment rolled over her when she realized this was how she had looked when speaking to the Mayor- a woman who looked like she was perfectly put together at all times.

Emma groaned before carefully picking out the glass she could see, listening to the steady  _tink, tink, tink_ of each shard landing in the porcelain sink bowl. When she couldn't find anymore, she began to wipe away all the traces of blood from her face with a damp paper towel, wishing she had makeup to cover the bruises on her face, or a brush to tame the insane kinks she could feel with her fingers.

But at least she looked better than before, and not some heroine in a b-rated horror flick who survived an attack by the skin of her teeth.

"Yeah," She scoffed to her own reflection, "Now you just look like you lost a fight."

After adjusting her jacket once more, she flipped the light off and walked out, stopping briefly to give a mock salute to the comatose man, "I'll see ya 'round, Johnny boy."

Outside her room, it seemed as if no nurses were on duty to care for the few other patients she could see. She frowned, but wouldn't allow herself to care, since it seemed like they were being taken care of. At least, no one seemed to be on death's door at the moment.

She let her eyes wandering, searching for a path that would take her away, out of the hospital. Now that she was standing, she didn't ever want to be back in that room. Dr. Whale's orders to stay overnight for observation be damned.

Her eyes finally fell on a red EXIT sign, and she let go of the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding, moving towards the door that was underneath it.

In her haste to leave, she didn't see the key pad near the handle, didn't realize the door hadn't been shut properly by the last person to walk through. It wasn't until the door click shut her with an ominous click did she think that she might have made a mistake.

The door didn't lead to the outside world as she expected. The only thing before her now was a dimly lit staircase, the lights diming in and out slightly. She turned to go back through the door, only to find the door locked. She tugged uselessly on it for a few moments before sighing in defeat and leaning her back against it.

"So much for not being part of a b-rated horror flick," she groaned as she screwed her eyes shut and let her head fall against the door, fighting against a wave of panic that threatened to rise above her.

This had to lead to an exit, right? Why else would they label it as such? Perhaps she was meant to go down the stairs…

She held her breath, slowly taking one step at a time, gripping the banister tightly in her left hand, her right already forming a fist.

The cement walls and florescent lights were foreboding, and Emma was preparing herself for anything. So when she was met with an empty reception desk, she felt almost… disappointed.

"Well that was anticlimactic." She mumbled to the silent room.

There was a single hall beyond the desk, lined with steel doors with tiny windows on them.

 _Psych ward_ , her mind supplied, her body already moving around the desk and down the hall. The steady tapping of her own boots was the only sound. The silence was all consuming, and as she risked a glance into each of the rooms, she found them empty.

"An  _abandoned_  psych ward," She spoke to break the quiet, trying to ease the thudding of her own heart, "Yeah, coz that's not creepy."

The lights flickered once more, hurrying her on down the hall.

She came to a larger room at the end of the hall, looking like a hospital dining room, unlike the other rooms she crossed, this one was well lit, and lacked the same faulty wiring, it would seem. Upon first glance, it appeared just as empty, however. It wasn't until the sole occupant shifted her weight that Emma took notice.

All alone in the corner of the cafeteria, with a plastic bowl and cup in front of her, the brunette was the first upright person Emma had seen since leaving her room.

She glanced over her shoulder once more before taking a tentative step forward, "Hey," She called out, not wanting to startle the woman.

The brunette seemed to be startled regardless, her head snapping up to look first at Emma, then let her blue eyes dart all around the room. When she pulled slightly away from the table, Emma noticed the woman's state of dress, the hospital robe, the severely disheveled hair, extremely pale skin, and the dark circles beneath her eyes standing out prominently.

Clearly this woman was a patient in the ward, and every fiber of Emma's being was screaming at her to leave, but she stubbornly refused, seeing a look in her eye that had her moving  _forward_  once more, "It's okay, hey," Emma she called out, "I didn't mean to scare you, you're just the first person I've seen…"

"Are you talking to me?" she had an accent,  _Australian_ \- her mind supplied, though her voice was rough as if she wasn't used to using it.

"Uh," Emma shuffled awkwardly, using the movement to take another step towards the brunette, shoving her hands in her pockets before making a show of looking around, "Well, you're the only one  _here,_ so…" she shrugged.

The brunette seemed so confused by this, but Emma could see the urge to flea leave her eyes as she settled back down into her chair, "Oh." She said simply.

"I'm Emma by the way," she came to a stop in front of the table, "Do you mind if I sit with you?" Emma asked, not wanting to do anything to scare the skittish woman away.

"By all means," she breathed waving to the empty chair across form her own, "Sorry, I know I must be acting strangely. I haven't spoken to anyone… well for as long as I've been here."

 _That's strange, right?_  Emma tried to hide her disbelief as she sat in the blue plastic chair, noticing the bland, grey mush in the bowl appeared to be untouched, "What's your name?"

The brunette opened her mouth, but her brow furrowed, as if she was struggling to remember her own name, something Emma could sympathize with. But after a few seconds of silence, she responded, "Belle. Wow, I'm sorry, it feels so weird to think of it…:

"How long have you been here?" The question slipped past Emma's lips before she could stop it, blushing at how it sounded.

Belle's eyebrows stayed lowered over her eyes, unfocused as she turned the question over and over in her head, "I… I don't know. For as long as I can remember…" there was a sadness in her eyes when they met Emma's once again, "I can't really remember anything… It's so strange…"

"It's okay," Emma assured her with a small nod and smile, "I can't really remember anything either. Hell, until four hours ago I didn't know my own name."

"Really?" Belle's lip twitched, "And I thought I was in bad shape."

"Hey!" Emma protested with faux indignation, causing a more real smile to spread over Belle's face, "I have a head injury, what's your excuse?"

It was meant to be a joke, but as soon as she said it, Emma wished she could have taken it back, the wave of sadness that washed over Belle was enough to make her want to kick herself, "No one's bothered to speak to me in so long. I guess when you don't have to use your name, you kinda forget."

Emma's heart clenched at the broken sound of Belle's voice. She hadn't spoken to anyone in four hours, and she had thought  _that_  was torture. She couldn't imagine not being able to speak to anyone for years on end.

"What about the nurses? The doctors?" Emma questioned, wanting somehow to make this woman feel better.

"I've only seen one nurse, and she doesn't speak to me. She only leads me from my room to the dining hall and back. And I don't think I've ever seen a doctor." Belle's tone was a little too light for Emma's liking.

"That's not right, Belle," She pointed out, "I mean come on, this is some seriously messed up shit. Sorry," She was quick to apologize when the swear slipped out.

The brunette opened her mouth to respond, but was quickly cut off by a voice that echoed from behind them, "Excuse me? Just what do you think you're doing?"

Emma turned to find a fuming woman dressed in a nurse's uniform, hands on her cocked hips, foot tapping impatiently as a scowl seemed to be permanently etched into her face.

"I'm talking with my friend Belle here," she infused her tone with as much innocence as possible, "Having a lovely conversation. Current events and catching up on all the latest hospital gossip."

Though it didn't seem possible, the towering nurse narrowed her eyes further, and Emma had to choke back the laugh that threatened to escape at the thought that sprung to her mind, something along the lines of expecting her to have a really awful German accent. She instead forced her mouth into a straight line as she held the woman's glare, refusing to back down.

"No one is allowed down here," were the words that were spoken, but a tingling in Emma's gut told her that this was not the case, instead, her ears heard "No one's allowed to talk to this patient."

Why would someone do that? Purposely cut off all communication with a patent for years? Was Belle dangerous?

Emma studied the mousey brunette from the corner of her eye, quickly dismissing that theory. There was nothing dangerous about Belle. Her own danger sensors seemed to be more focused on being trapped down here with no means of escape.

Why then would someone be so cruel?

"Who are you?" the nurse demanded.

"Me?" Emma pointed to her own chest, glancing around a bit for effect, "Oh, I'm no one. Just a  _concerned_ friend."

"How did you get down here?" She demanded, not appreciative of Emma's tone.

"Well, I was looking for an exit," Emma began, "Funny thing, the door I took was  _labeled_  as an exit, can you tell me why it brought me here instead?"

"You'll have to leave," the nurse went on, refusing to answer, and Emma could detect a light nervousness in her the longer she remained in her seat, "Let's go, don't make me call security."

"It's all right, Emma." Belle whispered to her, seeming resigned to her solitary fate.

Emma frowned, this was so  _not_ alright. She wasn't sure where this gung ho, righteous certainty came from, but it didn't take extensive memory to sense that there was something not quite right about this whole situation. But there wasn't much she could do about it right now.

"I'll come back to see you," Emma told her as she rose to her feet, noting the small spark of hope that lit in her clear blue eyes, "I promise."

Belle simply nodded, her smile echoing a deep sadness. Though she  _hoped_  Emma would return, perhaps just so she could have some company, it was clear she didn't honestly expect that to happen. Before Emma could offer any more reassurances, the nurse called out for her to hurry up.

The nurse grabbed her by the elbow, turning her back towards the door that brought her here. Emma easy twisted her arm from her grasp, but didn't say anything else as the grumbling woman lead her back up the stairs, punched in a code that released the door with a loud buzz. Emma made a quick note of the five digits before she was shoved through the door way, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Rude." Emma mumbled to the empty hall she found herself in.

She walked through the halls aimlessly, a little relieved that no one tried to stop her once she found the exit.

Emma found herself standing in the freezing rain, becoming soaked through to the bone after only a few moments as she gathered her bearings. She had no idea what to do now. So determined to leave the hospital, she hadn't thought through what to do after she accomplished this.

She looked down the street both ways, unable to see very far through the sheets of rain and darkness the early evening caused. Lighting flashed to her left, so she quickly turned away from it, "Right it is, then." And began walking, clutching her arms around herself after zipping her jacket to her chin.

She was unaware that she was following the sounds she could barely hear over the rain and thunder until she found herself standing in front of a building with familiar words looping over the sign.

 _Granny's Diner_.

Her stomach growled as she moved to the door, glad she was lucky enough to find the money she had in her pockets. Emma was starving, though she wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if she had done anything but lay around before going on her brief trip to the psych ward.

A bell dinged above her head as she pushed the door open, pausing briefly to wipe her feel uselessly on the rug that lay in front of the door. It's why it took her a moment to realize there was a lull in the commotion of the diner upon her entrance as all the patrons and wait staff looked up in confusion at her.

Feeling awkward under the weight of all their stares, Emma hurried to the only empty booth towards the back of the diner. Her boots made squishing noises far too loud in her own ears. But, much to her relief, as soon as she sat down, the loud conversation's started back up as if nothing happened.

Emma realized her hair was dripping all over the table top and she made an effort to wipe it away with her jacket, only making the problem worse and spreading the small puddles around.

After she sat back with a sigh, a white dish rag ran over the table, drying it considerably, Emma looked up to thank the waitress, but was pulled up short by her appearance. Tall and beautiful, dark hair streaked with bright red. She took in what the woman was wearing, and felt her eyebrow rise in response, the button up shirt, tails tied around her waist to reveal much of her midriff, a ridiculously short red skirt and heels that must have been murder on her feet.

"Who are you?" The waitress asked, blushing as soon as the words were out of her mouth, "Oh gosh, I mean, what can I get for you?"

"Emma," the woman smiled to ease her embarrassment, "And you are?"

"Ruby," She smiled brightly, gesturing to the name tag that was obscured by her long locks.

"It's nice to meet you Ruby," Emma nodded, "I take it you guys don't get very many outsiders, huh?" she nodded to the curious glances she was still receiving.

"No, never." Ruby rolled her eyes, "Sorry if it makes you feel weird."

"It's okay," Emma shrugged, feeling strangely at ease talking to the waitress.

"Ruby!" a sharp voice reprimanded from the counter, causing the waitress to straighten as if electrocuted, "Hurry up girl, these orders aren't going to deliver themselves!"

Emma looked up at the old, bespectacled woman leveling a stern look at the now scowling waitress, "Sorry, that's my Granny," Ruby rolled her eyes, "What can I get for you?"

"Um, I actually don't know," it was Emma's turn to be embarrassed, "What would you recommend?"

"Hm," Ruby tapped her chin with her pen, "You look like a hamburger and fries kinda gal."

Emma shrugged, "Sounds good to me."

"Okay," Ruby smiled brightly once more, "I'll bring that right out for you." She spun on her heel, tending to the plates already waiting for you. It appeared Emma chose to visit right in the middle of the dinner rush.

Left alone once more, and trying to ignore the stares, Emma looked out the window and thought over all that had happened that day. It hadn't been much outside of speaking to Mary Margret, Belle and Regina. A sigh escaped her at the thought of the town's mayor, a vague longing she couldn't really understand.

She forced the striking brunette from her thoughts and focused instead on Belle. She didn't know much, nothing really, but she did know that there was something seriously wrong with whatever was going on in that hospital.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a shadow fell over her table and someone sat on the bench across from her.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be in the hospital?"

Emma looked up, smiling sheepishly, "Mary Margret, right? I was let go, nothing's wrong with me, healthy as a horse. Well, a horse with amnesia."

The teacher smiled, "How are your memories coming along?"

"Not at all," Emma groaned, leaning on her elbows, "Well, I remembered by name, kind of. My hand apparently remembered how to write my name. It's the only useful thing that Dr. Whale did all day, if you ask me."

Mary Margret tilted her head, biting her lip when the urge to claim credit rose in her. Who cared who thought of the idea, so long as it worked, right?

"So, let's hear it," She found herself asking instead, "Who is the mystery woman talking to the elementary school teacher," she leaned forward, lowering her voice to whisper conspiratorially, "The people of Storybrooke want to know."

Emma smiled, "Well, I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." She spoke with mock seriousness.

Just as Mary Margret was about to complain when a plates were slid across the table to them, "Here ya go, Emma, Mary Margret." Ruby smiled at them.

"So, Emma, huh?" the smug smile on the teachers face had the blonde rolling her eyes.

"Thanks a lot, Ruby." Emma grumbled playfully.

"What did I do?" The waitress hip bumped her way into sitting beside Mary Margret.

"Emma here's upset you gave away her secret identity," humor lit the teachers green eyes, "But really, I would have gotten it out of Ruby eventually. Here's a word of advice if you're going to be staying in town for a while- if you have a secret, don't tell Ruby. She is the worst gossip."

"Hey!" Ruby smacked her shoulder, and they went off on a little argument.

Emma smiled at their exchange, watching them bicker back and forth while she ate her food. It was clear the two had been friends for a long time. And they made such an odd pair, Mary Margret with her sweater buttoned all the way up, hardly any make up, very conservative. And then there was Ruby. All smiles and self-assurance in her borderline inappropriate attire.

" _Speaking of staying in town,_ " Mary Margret spoke over whatever Ruby was trying to say, turning her attention back on the blonde, "Do you plan to?"

Emma's initial response was to say no, but she pursed her lips, thinking of her promise to Belle, thinking of her lunch date with the Mayor, using these as an excuse for her next words, "It's not really like I have a choice, right? Without my memories, where would I go? And my car must be totaled from last night."

"So, you  _are_  staying." Ruby smiled, excited as always to meet people and make new friends, though she hadn't had a chance to do so as of late… shifts at the diner keeping her busy and all…

"I am," Emma affirmed, "Is there a hotel or something in this town?" she questioned, only having walked past small stores on her way to the diner.

"Oh! Granny's B&B across the road here," Ruby gestured vaguely in the direction she meant, "It's the only place to stay really. I can get you a key?"

"Okay," Emma agreed, already feeling exhaustion settle over her as she resisted a shiver from caused by her damp clothes, "Yeah, that sounds good."

Ruby squealed and got to her feet, disappearing off towards the counter.

Mary Margret smiled at her best friend, shaking her head slightly at the woman's easy excitability. Emma yawned hugely, and the teacher frowned at her, "You must be exhausted."

"I don't see  _why_ ," Emma complained, "I've been laying around all day. What time is it anyway?" she looked out the window at the clock tower that stood in the center of the town.

"Oh that hasn't worked in ages," Mary Margret rolled her eyes, turning instead to look for a clock in the diner, "It's half past seven."

"I thought you said the clock was broken." Emma frowned.

"What? It is." She turned, squinting at the clock, "Huh, would you look at that. Something must've finally clicked."

"I guess so." Emma turned back to her food, not noticing her table companion staring confusedly at the clock for a few more moments.

* * *

_Flashback_

* * *

" _We've found something, your Majesty," the fairy known as Blue told Snow White as she and her advisors sat around the large table, discussing what they could do. The Evil Queen's threats were looming over their heads, and they all had the sense that there wasn't much time left until the Dark Curse fell upon them._

" _What is it?" King James spoke for his wife, "A way to stop it? To save the enchanted forest?"_

" _I'm afraid not," Blue frowned, "It has already been foretold, there is no way to prevent what Fate has called to come pass now. The Dark Curse will be enacted. There is, however, the prophecy I told you about."_

" _Our daughter," Snow touched her pregnant belly._

" _Yes," the fairy nodded, "We've found a magical tree, the ancient power held in it strong enough to protect against the effects of the curse. If we fashion a wardrobe from it's wood, whomever is in it shall be spared. Geppetto, can you make something like this?"_

" _Yes," the old carpenter spoke up, "Me and my boy, we can do this." He lightly touched his son's head, sitting at his feet, playing with toys._

_The fairy and Geppetto exchanged an unreadable look, but it was interrupted by a joyful outburst._

" _That's fantastic!" James smiled at his wife, not catching the grim set of Blue's face. His wife, however, saw it clearly._

" _What is it?" Snow asked, nearly chocking on the words. She couldn't afford to fall apart now, not in front of all the people watching them so closely. She had to be an example. She had to be strong. She needed to be the Queen they needed now._

" _While the magic of the tree is very powerful, all magic has it's limits," She sighed, "I'm afraid it only has enough protect one."_

" _What?" James' face fell, "No. But that means…" he exchanged a look with his wife, his True Love, seeing now that they were to be separated once more. It seemed the Fates were forever working against them._

" _Don't worry," Snow smiled, wiping a few tears that escaped from her eyes, sensing his inner turmoil, "You have to believe that our love is stronger than whatever Regina can throw at us. We've been through so much already… trolls, arranged marriages, magic potions, sleeping curses…" She took a breath, her smile turning sad, "Nothing will ever keep me from you, Charming. I will_ always  _find you."_

" _And I, you." Charming was tearing up from his wife's words._

" _Do it, Geppetto," Snow nodded without tearing her eyes from James', "Make the wardrobe."_

* * *

" _It's here!" Grumpy shouted for all to hear as his eyes bore witness to the dark purple smoke slowly consuming the Enchanted Forest._

_There was a lot of commotion, people running, panicking, all to no avail. It was no use, their fate had already been sealed. James shook his head at them, understanding their fear, but knowing it would be of no use to them._

" _Oh no," the small cry, came from behind him, and he spun to find a pained look on his wife's face, bent slightly at the waist as her hand clutched her stomach, "No, no, no, not now!" the last word came out as a cry of pain._

" _Snow!" James rushed to her side, "What? What is it? The baby-,"_

" _Is coming." She said through gritted teeth, the tears streaming down her flushed cheeks a mixture of pain and fear, "No, it's not time." She groaned._

" _I-I-I'll go get help," James glanced around quickly, sub coming to the air of panic that filled their castle._

_Snow lowered herself to the bed, "Why? Why couldn't you be a little more patient?" She asked her unborn daughter._

* * *

" _There we go!" Doc's announcement was filled with shock and laughter as crying filled the air._

_Snow sighed and fell back to the bed, her hair sticking to her neck with sweat, but she was too tired to care. She didn't even see as James cut their daughter's cord, letting Doc clean her up before wrapping her in the very blanket Snow had painstakingly made as she worried the days away that lead them here._

" _She's so beautiful," James cooed, and that caught her attention, "Here." He spoke softly as he carefully passed their squirming child into her arms._

" _Hello, Emma." Snow smiled through her tears._

_Before she could say much more, there was the sound of their castle being sieged. Cries of pain and outrage mixed with the clash of swords. James and Snow remembered themselves._

" _One," the new mother whispered, "The wardrobe only protects one."_

" _Snow," James shook his head, "You can't… we can't…"_

" _We have to." Snow nodded to herself, setting her jaw, looking down at her precious daughter, "We have to believe what Blue told us, we have to believe that she'll come for us." She swallowed thickly._

" _We should stay together, Snow," James argued, "Face this together as a family."_

" _No, Charming." She choked back a sob, "We have to give her her best chance." The sounds of violence were growing closer, "Hurry, you must take her to the wardrobe."_

_Finally, King James nodded, taking the baby back from his wife, cradling her carefully in one arm and grabbing his sword with the other. He spared one last look for his wife before disappearing down the hall, headed for the room that had been made for his daughter, the one she was supposed to grow up in…_

_No one heard as Snow White finally let go of her mask and sobbed into her pillow, screaming out the pain that was trying to suffocate her, her arms feeling empty with her daughter gone._

_James was met with a couple of the Evil Queen's guard, and it took a bit of foot work and a lot of strength to cut them down as he finally made it to his destination._

_He dropped his sword, stumbling to the wardrobe and throwing open the door. He kissed the top of his daughters head lovingly, "Find us." He begged before placing her down, being sure to tuck the blanket firmly around her._

_As the small door clicked shut, he could feel the magic it emanated, just before he was met with the sensation of being thrown backwards._

" _Hello,_ Charming _," the sultry voice greeted from the doorway, "I've come to greet your heir, but lo and behold I couldn't find her."_

" _And you never will," James growled from his place on the floor._

_Regina smirked as she sauntered in to the nursery, to the wardrobe, "Gee, I wonder where she is." She spoke in a sing song voice before tugging on the handle to no avail. She growled angrily and pulled once more with the same results._

_She used her magic to conjure a ball of fire in her hand, aiming it at the door and throwing it with all her force. It exploded brilliantly, but it had no effect on the wardrobe._

_James' chuckle had her refocusing her attention on the shepherd turned royalty, "Like I said, Regina, you'll never get your hands on our daughter."_

_Regina threw a ball of magic at the man, effectively wiping the smile from his face as he crumpled, unconscious._

_The smoke of her curse caught her eye as it hit the window, "It's no matter, wherever you put her, Charming, she'll not get in the way of my happiness."_

_She met the curse with a smile._

* * *

_When the smoke settled and the Enchanted Forest was in ruins, those left searched through the rubble remains of their home land. Many in shock, others quick on their feet to take advantage of the situation._

_There were a few good and noble souls trying to help the hurt and scared. There was one such woman who found herself preparing her farm, protected from the curse, for any who may need to find sanctuary._

_The first knock at her door had her wishing for her husband or sons to be there with her, knowing desperate people could be dangerous people. She warily pulled back the door to find a small boy in overalls and a red cap. His wide eyes scared, his bottom lip trembling._

" _Are you alright, child?" the old woman asked, kneeling to meet his eyes, "Where are your parents?"_

" _My papa was in the castle." He explained, voice cracking._

_Her heart broke for the boy, knowing that the Evil Queen would have been sure the castle and all those inside would not have survived. "Why don't you come in? I'll fix you up something."_

" _No, no, come on, we need to get her." The boy grabbed her hand, tugging for him to follow her, "We have to get the baby."_

" _The baby?" She immediately gave in to the insistent tugging, "Where is she?"_

" _Just over there!" he pointed to the far off line of trees, "Hurry, she was crying, someone one will find her…"_

_They rushed to the trees, the woman on alert for anyone else. The boy didn't seem to notice her hesitation, weaving her through the first few trees to one, particularly old tree at the very edge of her properties borders._

_It had a hollow hold at waist level, and sure enough, there was a small, whining bundle inside. The woman gasped, pulling the baby, swaddled in a white blanket, to her chest, rocking her gently._

" _There, there," she soothed, "It's alright."_

_The baby seemed to calm at her voice, yawning hugely._

_The woman glanced around, searching for a sign of whoever could have left her there. She found no one but the boy who brought her here._

" _Come on then," she held her hand out for the boy. "It's starting to get dark, we should get you two inside."_

_The small boy nodded, accepting her hand as they walked together to her small house._

_It was later, when she was laying the baby down in an old crib that once held her son, that she realized there was a name stitched into the blanket._

" _Emma," she read quietly, "Don't worry, Emma." She glance out the window at the fires she could see tainting the skies in the distance, "I'll protect you for as long as I live. I had a son once, long ago. Two actually." She sighed, "I lost them both to the same man. Don't you worry though. I may be a bit rusty, but I'll care for you as best I can. Little Emma." She cooed as she brushed her fingers over her soft skin._

_Ruth made a vow to the baby and boy to protect them with her life._

_And she did._


	3. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to Ruth still being alive: In my AU, Snow White told James when the curse of a barren womb was placed on her, so they never went to see James’ mother, going straight to Lake Nostos instead. And After, never getting a chance to go to Ruth to share their news. Therefore, she was never hit with a poison arrow, and never died.

Waking up for Regina Mills meant shoving away the nightmares that had haunted her for the last thirty years, trying her hardest not to physically kick out at the imagined restraints.

To do so would show fear.

And to show fear was weakness.

And if there was one thing Regina Mills was not, it was weak.

She let the sun filter through the windows, touching her eyelids before allowing them to slip open. She wasn't afraid of the dark, that was preposterous for someone with her power and knowledge. No, definitely not afraid of the imagined monsters that perhaps escaped her dreams this time.

It simply gave her time to center herself before beginning her day.

It was Sunday, which meant one thing…

"Graham," she mumbled, letting her arm drop over to the other side of the bed, "Graham." She nudged him again.

While Regina enjoyed his… company regularly, he only was allowed to sleep over on Saturdays, and that was because Sunday's were the only days that Henry slept in, with no school or Saturday morning cartoons awaiting him. It provided enough time for her to wake Graham and all but toss him out on his ass before she started her daily routine.

"Graham," she finally sat up, shoving him roughly this time, and he finally responded, head shooting up from his pillow with a surprised snort. Regina swallowed her disgust, "I'm getting in the shower, and I expect you to be gone upon my return."

Regina stood, pulling her silk robe around her and running a hand through her hair.

"I could always join you," Graham smiled broadly.

The Mayor smirked, "Don't you have job to be getting to, Sherriff? What am I paying you for?" She turned on her heel, "Don't wake Henry on your way out." She said before closing the door to her ensuite bathroom.

She wished there was literally anyone else in the town that she could stomach sleeping with. Why hadn't she thought about that before casting the curse? Why hadn't she included more people she didn't absolutely loath? It had certainly made things quite lonely for her in the last twenty eight years.

Graham would have hardly been her first choice for a bed partner, but with his heart firmly in her possession, it had made it convenient. She had long since grown complacent with him and the routine they had formed. She often found herself wishing for something new in the infinite sea of sameness she had created.

Storybrooke was supposed to be her happy ending. Why, then, had she grown so bored with it all? You weren't supposed to be bored with your happy ending.

Henry was supposed to be the answer to that. He had filled that void she had for love and companionship. Her son, for the first nine years of his life, she had been his best friend, his confidant, his everything.

Since learning about his adoption, however, he had grown increasingly distant. He was angry with Regina for lying to him his whole life, never telling him she wasn't his biological mother. It was only made worse when he asked about his "real" parents, and Regina refused to tell him anything she knew.

She lost his trust.

What was she supposed to tell him, though? That she had no idea who his birth parents were? That he had been found abandoned on the side of the road in front of a rundown diner the next county over? He was already having trouble accepting that someone had given him up, how would he handle knowing they hadn't even bothered taking him to a hospital to do so?

She knew that Henry just wanted to understand who he was and where he came from, but Regina couldn't admit that she couldn't help him learn any of that. She didn't want to. As far as Regina was concerned, Henry was her son. And when something was hers, she wasn't apt to share it.

This line of thinking inevitable lead to her wondering about another person who didn't know who they were or where they came from.

She was worried about Emma.

No, that wasn't right. She couldn't be worried about a woman she didn't know. Besides, she had to think of the consequences her presence indicated. In twenty eight years, with the exception of Henry, there had never been another person to enter Storybrooke. The veil that came with the curse cloaked the town and prevented that.

Did Emma's showing up mean that the curse was weakening?

She wasn't even sure how long the curse was meant to last, she had assumed indefinitely, like most of the curses from their land. But this wasn't their land. This was a land without magic. There were different rules here, and perhaps that put a time limit on how long the Dark Curse would remain strongly intact.

Regina detested not having answers, and came to the conclusion that she would just have to check the town border herself.

"Henry." She spoke up, breaking the constant silence that seemed to hang over their table now a days.

Her son made a grunting noise, indicating that he heard her, but unwilling to dignify it with a proper response. Regina bit back the snap that wanted to come out, the voice in her head wanting to tell Henry not to be rude sounding an awful lot like her own mother. That thought alone had he biting her tongue.

She made a promise to Henry the first night she brought him home, a promise to  _herself_ \- she would  _not_  turn into Cora.

"Henry, I have a few errands to run, and some business to attend to in town, so I'm going to drop you off at Dr. Hoppers as soon as you finish your breakfast." She forced her tone to remain light.

Henry's face scrunched up, and Regina knew he didn't like this idea at all. He hated that she had put him in therapy since learning of his adoption. But she just didn't know how to help him, he just seemed to angry all the time, and it worried her.

Despite his obvious protest, he nodded to his mother, titling his bowl up to finish the milk from his cereal. And once again, Regina had to consciously resist the urge to correct his behavior.

She just wanted her little boy back, he had never felt so far away as he did when slamming the door of the car without so much as a good by when they reached Dr. Hopper's office. A wave of pain brushed against her heart she believed long incapable of feeling.

She swallowed, forcibly putting up the mask of Mayor, unfeeling and unforgiving. Gods help whoever stood in her way when she wore it. Regina Mills was a force to be reckoned with.

It was still rather early for the sleepy little town, quiet as the Mayor took the road leading away from Storybrooke. Not many townsfolk were awake just yet, unless they were attending mass, or the few she saw attending gardens.

Because of this, she was surprised to see a bit of activity at the town border. Not directly on top of it, a good thirty feet inside the barrier. The curse kept the citizens away from the edge of town by any means necessary, mostly by making them wary of this stretch of road. Some ridiculous urban legend that Regina didn't remember weaving into the curse.

Never the less, at the edge of the town, surrounding the welcome sign, sat three cars: the sheriff's patrol car, the town carpenter's old truck, and one, badly mangled, yellow Volkswagen bug. The latter was still impacted into the brick base of the now severely damaged sign.

The Benz came to a careful stop beside Graham's car, and the Mayor stepped out, hands on her hips as she took in the scene.

"Why hasn't this been cleared away yet?" She demanded, "It's been over a day!"

"Madam Mayor," Marco took his hat off, nodding politely to her, "Don't worry, as soon as Michael tows the car, I shall begin work to fix the sign. It shall be good as new." He assured her.

"That doesn't answer my question. Graham," her eyes snapped to the other man, who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, "Why hasn't Mr. Tillman already come for Miss Swan's car?"

"Miss Swan? I wasn't aware she remembered her name," Graham made a note in a small spiral bound notebook.

"You haven't spoken to her yet?" Regina's ire was rising- it was far too early to be met with such incompetence.

"No," he cleared his throat, "I haven't had the time, and I figured if she didn't have her memories any way, she wouldn't really be of any help…" he trailed off as the Mayor's glare became down right murderous. If he thought their familiarity would be his saving grace with the Mayor, he was sorely mistaken.

"And Mr. Tillman? Did he decide to shuck his responsibilities as well simply because, what," Regina shrugged as she took a threatening step forward, "Miss Swan wouldn't notice the lack of service?"

"No, no," Graham put his hands in front of his chest in a placating manor, "Yesterday's storm caused a few other minor wrecks, and what have you. He's been a little backed up with stalled cars and fender benders."

"Tell me, Sheriff," Regina's arms crossed over her chest, "When comparing a few stalled cars and fender benders, to  _that_ ," she gestured angrily to the wrecked bug, "Which one seems a bit more dire?"

Sheriff Graham flushed, his jaw moving as he floundered for something to say, but Regina didn't notice. Now that she had brought her own attention back to the car, she found herself distracted, moving closer to examine it.

The ground crunched with a mixture of rock and glass beneath her heels. The smell of gasoline and motor oil filled the air around, the rain not able to completely wash it away. Peering through the open driver side door revealed a blood covered steering wheel- this car apparently not equipped with air bags.

Regina's heart twisted painfully for a moment as her eyes took in the shattered glass and twisted metal. It was a miracle Emma had walked away from this crash with nothing more than superficial injuries and an impaired memory.

"What can you tell me about the wreck?" Regina asked, looking up at the Sheriff when he failed to answer right away, "You have learned something, right? You haven't just been standing around twiddling your thumbs while Marco is the only one who seems to be doing his job?"

"Right," he nodded, finally seeming to find his voice, "Well, trying to figure out what caused the crash has been difficult. There were no skid marks, so either Miss Swan didn't hit the breaks or she couldn't. I can't rule out hydroplaning, however, seeing as it was raining pretty nasty at the time. There's no sign to indicate that she tried to avoid hitting the sign either though. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she did it on purpose."

Regina frowned,  _on purpose? She drove her car in to the sign, landed herself in the hospital on purpose? To what end?_

"Did you find anything in the car? Any personal effects?" She asked aloud.

"Nope, the car was clean," He shook his head, "no registration or license. Nothing to identify this woman at all. If I might make a suggestion though, Regina?"

The Mayor looked up at him, mind already moving forward towards her next plan of action, "What is it Sheriff?"

"Perhaps we should keep a close eye on Miss Swan," He shuffled his feet, "If she's driving head long into signs, she could be a danger to herself."

"Leave that to me, Sheriff," Regina turned back to her car, already planning on going to the hospital herself to check on the blonde.

The drive to the hospital seemed to go by much faster, though Regina found herself constantly checking her own reflection in the mirror, fixing her perfect hair, cleaning up flawless make up… she couldn't seem to stop the jittering feeling in her stomach.

She scoffed at herself, turning the mirror away. She was Regina Mills, former Evil Queen, she didn't do jittery.

She strode through the halls of the hospital with the same air of regality as she did her castle so many years prior, and the staff reacted as such. It served as a reminder to herself, she had a town to run, she was letting this blonde occupy too much of her time and attention. She would deal with this Emma Swan, see to it that she was on her way out of Storybrooke as quickly as possible, memories be damned.

She ignored the slight twinge of pain, locking it away in a way that had been far too easy to do her entire life.

She was so caught up in her resolve, it took her a moment, standing in the door way of the hospital room to realize that one of the beds was empty.

Regina blinked slowly, twice, as if expecting for the scene before her to suddenly shift to the one she expected to find. It stayed the same, annoyingly enough, and it seemed the frown on Regina's face would be cemented into place.

There were two people  _in_ the room, however, only one was who she expected. John Doe, the disgustingly noble idiot, hadn't moved from where he had been for the last twenty eight years. However, there was no sign of Emma Swan. Just some oaf turning down the glaringly empty patient bed.

"Excuse me," Regina's voice boomed through the, the man started, jerking back into his tray, causing supplies to clatter to the ground, "I'm looking for Miss Swan."

"Uh," his eyes were the size of saucers as he glanced frantically between the hospital bed and the terrifying woman staring him down, his heart felt as if it was going to beat right out of his chest, "Um…"

"Well?" she snapped, foot tapping, "Where the hell is she?"

"I-I-I'm sor-sorry ma'am," he shuffled his feet, now looking for an escape from this wrath, "She's, uh, she's gone."

"Gone?" the word was a crack of thunder in the small room, and the brief silence that followed it made the orderly want to tear at his own ears, "What do you mean  _gone_?" she demanded.

"I-I-I, uh," his voice squeaked out, and he wasn't a hundred percent sure he wasn't going to need a change of underwear after this encounter.

"You stuttering moron, go get me Dr. Whale!" she ground out through her teeth, dark eyes flashing dangerously.

He all but tripped over his own two feet trying to scramble by the woman who was a foot shorter than him.

Regina began pacing the room, heels clicking loudly against the linoleum. She was trying her damnedest to try and tamper down on the emoting that was swelling in her. It was difficult to identify, but it was threatening to suffocate her, and she most certainly did not care for it.

She glared at John Doe, as if it was all his fault, as if he somehow caused all this madness that was making her dizzy. She just needed a distraction from the unidentifiable feeling, setting for something all too familiar: anger, and directing it at someone who had been on the receiving end of it for a long time.

"Mayor Mills," Dr. Whale greeted smoothly as he entered the war zone the nurses and orderlies were now avoiding like the plague, "Is everything alright?" he kept his tone professional, hoping to calm the woman before she did something dangerous, like cut funding to the hospital making him give up his bonuses.

"No, everything is not alright," She turned her attentions on the pompous doctor, a deeper rage rising in her upon seeing his small smile, "I came here to check on Miss Swan, but your hapless staff seems incapable of giving me any answers!"

"My apologies, Mayor Mills-,"

"What happened to Miss Swan?" Her voice lowered to a deadly level, stepping closesr to the doctor, forcing him back.

"I'm sorry, Regina, when we came in for rounds this morning, she was gone." His tone was somber, regretful, and that emotion threatened to take over the Mayor once more.

"What do you mean gone?" she clung desperately to her anger now, "What happened?"

"We're not really sure-," Whale stepped back, hands up for defense at her reaction to those words, "She was just gone, as well as her personal effects."

Realization dawned on Regina then, "When you say gone…"

"I mean she left." Dr. Whale explained, intrigued by the sudden calm that settled over the woman.

Relief swelled through her, but she refused to let it show, "Perhaps you and your staff should work on your vocabulary when discussing patients who were at the precipice of death twenty four hours ago."

Heat brushed over the doctor's face at the reprimand, biting his cheek to keep from replying and getting himself in even deeper shit.

"But before that," indignation was cracking around the Mayor once more, "Maybe you can explain to me just how a woman with no memories, who has never been to this town and has a severe head injury,  _how_  the hell she just disappeared? Wasn't she under some sort of watch?"

"This isn't a prison, Regina," Dr. Whale tired, "We can't just keep people here if they chose to get up and leave. We don't have the staff or the funding to have someone babysat for the duration of their stay."

Those were the exact wrong words to say, and if looks could kill, the way the Mayor was staring him down, he would have incinerated on the spot. Instead of the verbal castration he was expecting, the Mayor simply brushed past him and left the hospital.

Now that her fury was directed elsewhere for the time being, it seemed as if the whole hospital let out the breath it had been holding, waiting for the implosion that never came.

 _Okay, think,_ Regina sat in her idling car,  _if I was Emma Swan, where would I go?_

That was rather unhelpful, the woman doesn't even know who she is? How was Regina to know any better?

But that wasn't true, was it? Emma had been learning things about herself, things she had shared with the Mayor. What were they? What had the Mayor learned from her own observations of the woman?

She'd only sat with her for about twenty minuets, talking about favorite colors over lunch from Granny's.

 _Granny's_ , Regina started the car,  _Of course_.

The woman had stated she was hungry when she brought lunch, she doubted that Emma had enjoyed any food from the hospital, and the only place Emma could have known about would be Granny's- not that there was much choice in the small town. Still, it was only two blocks away, completely within walking distance.

The breakfast rush was just dying down at the diner, thankfully, so that waitress- what was her name here?- was the only one Regina could see as she bussed the empty tables.

She looked up when the bell chimed over her head, nose twitching, unaware she was catching a scent most people wouldn't be able to detect. She stiffened just before her eyes finally fell on Regina, striding towards her.

"Mayor Mills," Ruby- that's right,  _Ruby_ \- squeaked, setting her tray on the counter before tugging slightly on the hem of her ridiculously short skirt.

Regina had to physically bite back a comment on the wolf's preferred attire. Most people didn't think the Evil Queen had a sense of humor, and she sometimes wished the town's people could see their cursed selves. She felt her cleverness was wasted as her private joke began to grow old. They would never understand or appreciate the intricacies that went into weaving these lives into the curse.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Ruby shifted under the intense look the Mayor had, unable to resist the urge to glance around for help, or witnesses.

"I'm looking for a woman," Regina began, trying to figure out how to ask about Emma when she was surrounded by people who could hardly remember what they did last week. Surely the unknown blonde would stand out.

"Oh, wow," Ruby gave the Mayor a funny look as she titled her head, "I didn't know you swung that way, but yeah, I might be able to help. I know someone who-,"

"Miss Lucas!" Regina snapped, interrupting the blabbering waitress before she could embarrass them both further, "I am looking for a  _specific_ woman, and I was wondering if you had seen her."

"Oh, okay, sure," Ruby blushed, tugging on the ends of one of the red streaks that ran through her hair.

Regina felt the urge to drag it out a bit, if only just to torture the woman who was once Snow White's closest friend, but this mission to find Emma Swan was running longer than she would have liked as it was, "She's new to town, blonde, she's been in an accident…"

"Oh, Emma!" Ruby suddenly perked up with a smile at had the Mayor narrowing her eyes, "What do you need to talk to Emma for?"

"Not that it's any of tour concern Miss Lucas, but Emma was in a serious accident, and I'm concerned for her. She left the hospital before the doctor could discharge her. I just want to be sure she's alright."

Ruby seemed taken aback by the idea of the Mayor being concerned with anyone, but she found herself compelled to answer anyway, "She's at the Inn," she gestured with a nod of her head, "Room three."

Regina huffed, "Thank you." Before spinning on her heel and leaving Ruby behind, trying to play catch up with this strange side of the Mayor she had never seen in all the years they knew each other.

Regina didn't bother with her car, walking directly across the deserted street to the Inn also run by Widow Lucas.

The place seemed barren, dust and cobwebs coating the area behind the desk, but Regina paid that no mind, walking directly to the stairs, knowing her way to room three well. It's the room Graham would stay in, it's where they held their… business meetings when not at the mayoral mansion.

She paused for a moment, hand half raised to knock on the door. Regina took a breath, than another. Straightening her skirt, readjusting her shirt. Working on reigning in her erratic emotions.

It took longer than she would have liked, but as soon as she had donned the passive mask that had become second nature to her, she rapped smartly against the worn wood.

There was a faint grumbling on the other side of the door, followed by a heavy thud and muffled cursing. The door was pulled back to reveal a half dressed, still half asleep, Emma Swan.

Regina couldn't help herself, letting her eyes wander over bear thighs, the blue cotton boy shorts, the torso barely hidden by a tight fitting tank top, the sleep mused hair and confused expression on Emma's face as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes with one hand.

The Mayor came back to her senses at the same time Emma did, blush washing over her fair skin, "Oh, uh… sorry." She scratched the back of her head, stepping back and allowing the Mayor step into the room, "I, uh, don't have any pajamas, and I didn't want to sleep in my jeans. But if I knew the Mayor was coming over I would have figured out where I threw them." She gave a quick panicked glance around the room to no avail.

Emma gave up the fruitless search for pants, holding her hands in front of her, simultaneously giving herself some semblance of modestly while preventing herself from pulling her top further down.

Regina studied her for a moment, noticing that the remnants of her car wreck were gone, and the bruising on her face had also begun fading

"You left the hospital," The words were carefully devoid of any emotion as the Mayor leaned against the old desk against the wall.

"Wow, I guess they finally noticed, huh?" Emma smiled sheepishly, the expression more than a little adorable.

Regina tilted her head, "What do you mean?"

"Well, no one checked in on me or anything since we had our lunch. I was having my own little bet on when they would sound the alarm that I was gone. Did you get a call or something?"

Regina's jaw was suddenly aching with how tightly she was clenching her teeth, she took a calming breath before being able to answer, "No, I went to check on you this morning after speaking with the sheriff, and when you weren't there, I went to Granny's and spoke to Ruby."

"Oh," Emma's face scrunched up, "That's… that's weird, right? Because doctors are supposed to look in on patients, or at least nurses?" she was thinking of Belle now, how was that girl surviving all alone down there in a place that didn't notice when patients went missing?

"Perhaps a hospital reform is in order," Regina's eyes flashed with anger for a split second before she seemed to shake herself from it, looking beyond Emma now.

The blonde shifted from one foot to the other, trying to decide if she should tell the mayor about Belle. She already seemed pretty upset, and it wasn't as if Emma could ask her for a favor out right, not when she hardly knew the woman. Or Belle for that matter.

Regina stepped forward and Emma froze, the Mayor suddenly standing far too close, trapping Emma between her and the bed. There was a pounding in her ears- was that her heart? It was impossible to tell, but her breathing hitched when the distance between them was all but eliminated, and Emma could feel the heat from the other woman.

Regina simply leaned around Emma briefly, standing straight once more, a smirk on her face and a familiar pair of denim jeans in her hand, "I believe you were looking for these?"

"Thanks." Emma breathed, accepting the pants as Regina stepped away, attention already elsewhere as Emma struggled to get back in the jeans she had been grateful to get off. At least she was no longer under the scrutiny of the Mayor, she was sure her face was flushed enough as it was.

Regina spotted the jeans when she first entered the room, but was enjoying the view too much to point them out. It wasn't until the blonde's exposed skin had become far too distracting that she revealed their location, tangled up with the blankets at the foot of the bed.

She moved around Emma until she was no longer in her sight, trying to regain control of her thoughts. That's when she noticed the painting on the wall. It had creases in it now, and a few water spots, but she recognized it from the hospital room.

"I, uh, I liked the painting, it seemed really happy in the room," Emma hastily explained, "And Mary Margret hung it up for me anyway. It's not like John Doe was gonna miss it, and she had a whole cart full of 'em, and after seeing the decor in this room, I'm kinda glad I took it with me, though I had to fold it up in my pocket, and then it was raining when I left…" she trailed off, realizing she was rambling before it got too bad.

Another lovely trait she possessed, it seemed, was being able to embarrass herself when left to talk for too long.

This was the first time Regina had inspected the painting up close, she knew it had been done by a child, most of the decorations in the hospital were made by the elementary school children. She never expected to recognize the name sloppily signed in the corner.

She was unsure of when he had painted it, that insufferable teacher tended to save up the projects from art hour for weeks before carting them to the hospital, but it had to be before he found out about his adoption. Otherwise, why would Henry paint a picture of a mother and son sitting happily beneath an apple tree?

"Is everything alright?" Emma's soft voice finally broke Regina out of her thoughts.

"My son painted this," Regina explained, stepping away from the wall, the smile on her face feeling even more fake than usual.

"You have a son?" Emma asked before she could help it, "How old is he?"

"Ten," Regina smiled a bit easier, always finding it easier to talk about Henry than anything else in the world, "His name's Henry."

"Well, you've got a talented kid." Emma nodded to the painting, "Did you want it?"

"No," Regina waved her off, "I've got plenty of them at home, as you can imagine." Emma frowned at the lie, "You keep it, after all this room could use the color."

The blonde resisted the urge to call her out on the lie. There was clearly some tension between mother and son, and it wasn't Emma's place to get involved. She wasn't even sure how she felt about Regina  _having_ a son… did that mean she was married?

That bothered her more than the thought of her having a son for some reason, a spikey feeling clawing its way up her throat.

"So, Miss Swan," Regina spoke up suddenly, clearly wishing for a subject change, "What are your plans?"

"Oh," Emma frowned, "I hadn't really thought about it. I guess I'm sorta stuck here right? I mean, I totaled my car right? SO I have to wait until  _that_ gets fixed, not to mention finding a way to pay for it, since I'm running low on cash and I don't have a credit card… And I have to pay for this room, clothes, food…. A new town sign." She blushed and shuffled her socked feet.

Regina was having mixed feelings. On the one hand, having a stranger in town would be dangerous, she should make sure she's on her way. But on the other hand, she felt a strange excitement that Emma would be staying for the foreseeable future. She was also torn between offering help and maintaining a distance between them. As a general rule, Regina didn't really let herself get close to people.

Abigale was the only one who considered her a friend, a strange development that Regina hadn't accounted for. But she knew she needed to keep her close in case John Doe ever woke up for whatever reason…

But Emma was unpredictable, and she didn't have any control over her. That prospect alone was terrifying.

Emma noticed the Mayors hesitation, "Don't worry, Madam Mayor, I'll try my hardest not to destroy any more town property." She smiled, trying to bring some levity to the situation the only way she knew how- by making jokes.

It seemed to work as the Mayor smirked, but true humor was in her eyes as she nodded, "I have every faith in you, Miss Swan.

Emma beamed before a thought occurred to her, "Hey, uh, even though I'm not still in the hospital, did you, I don't know, can we still meet up for lunch?" she blushed, "I mean, I don't really know very many people in town, and I was kinda looking forward to seeing you."

It shouldn't have been allowed, a grown woman being so adorably unsure of herself, Regina couldn't help herself, "Of course."

The blonde's whole face brightened with a smile, "Great. That's… great."

"You're trying very hard not to ramble on, aren't you?"

"Mhmm." Emma nodded, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"Well, I won't make it any harder on you, dear," Regina smiled, the expression feeling more and more natural the longer she spent around the blonde, "And I should be going. But I'll see you for lunch. Granny's? At twelve?" She called over her shoulder as she walked to the door.

"It's a date." Emma responded before she could help herself.

Regina's heart skipped a beat, but she didn't react visibly, just continuing her way out the door, and after it shut behind her, she heard, very clearly, Emma's groan, "You idiot." And she laughed quietly to herself, leaving the Inn with a lighter step than when she arrived.

* * *

_Flashback_

* * *

_The Dark Curse had a strange effect on the Enchanted Forest._

_While most of the land was left to ruins, the remaining fairy tale characters suffered in their own version of the Evil Queen's curse. They were trapped in time, left to disorder and chaos with no one left to rule over them._

_Those strong enough to take, did. And those too weak to defend themselves, fell under the swords and flames of their attackers._

_Emma and Pinocchio lived with Ruth for nearly four years before their sanctuary was touched by the madness baring down all around them._

_The children were playing a little ways off from where Ruth was gathering vegetables from her garden, looking up to smile at them every so often. Her son's sacrifice had protected her land, inadvertently blessing her with the presence of children once more._

_She had so missed being a mother, and she was often left to wonder what became of her son, if he ended up marrying that king's daughter, how he had faired the Dark Curse, if he'd ever had any children of his own…_

_Ruth sighed, looking up to the setting sun off in the distance and frowning. The days seemed to pass much quicker now, though she could hardly remember them after, the only sure sign of the passage of time was Emma and Pinocchio quickly growing._

_She opened her mouth to call for the children, but her voice was caught in her throat. At the edge of her property, where fields met forest, half a dozen men on horseback emerged. Dressed in boiled leather, chainmail and the furs of their kills, they wore fearsome scowls and were wielding various weapons- headed straight for her home._

_Trepidation filled Ruth, and she called out for the children, her voice lost in the wind._

_She dropped her basket of goods, feet already moving quickly for the children. She tripped to the ground, falling before them, looking at her with confusion and panic._

" _What is it, grandmother?" Pinocchio asked when she gripped his shoulders tightly._

" _Listen to me now," She spoke urgently, "You must be brave, Pinocchio, brave like I know you can be. You must take your sister and run." She grabbed Emma's hand and put it in Pinocchio's, "And no matter what, don't look back. Keep running until you are safe."_

" _I don't understand," he argued, shaking his head as tears welled in his eyes, "What's happening?"_

_The shouts of the men reached their ears, and Pinocchio saw them at last, fear blossoming quickly on his face._

" _Go, you have to go," she urged, "Run Pinocchio!" she kissed him once on the forehead before doing the same to a confused looking Emma._

_She rose to her feet, headed back towards the danger, ignoring the shout of protest behind her._

" _Come on, Emma, we must run." Pinocchio sniffed, tugging on her hand as he began to move in the opposite direction of Ruth._

" _No," She shook her head, resisting._

" _We have to, Emma!" he argued, pulling on her roughly once more._

" _No!" She tugged back, falling on her back when her hand slipped form her brother's grasp. She scrambled to her feet, running back in the direction Ruth had gone._

" _Emma, no!" Pinocchio called out, rooted in his spot as his instincts warred._

_He glanced at the three year old, then at his route of escape, then back to Ruth, growing ever nearer to the armed men._

_Fear won out, and Pinocchio ran, ignoring the words the Blue Fairy told him, ignoring his own Papa's words to protect Emma, ignoring Ruth's pleas to take her and go. He just ran, tears streaming down his face._

_Emma's short legs were running as fast as they were able. But it still wasn't enough._

_The men reached Ruth before she could. Her protesting voice reached Emma's small ears, and she pushed herself harder._

_One of the men pulled out a bow, pulling it taunt, arrow already aimed. There was laughter as the string snapped forward, and the arrow found its home in Ruth's chest._

_The old woman stumbled to a halt, looking down in confusion at the wooden shaft protruding from her, before falling to her knees._

_Emma cried out in anger and pain, reaching the only mother she'd known as she collapsed to the ground. Red was covering her clothing, seeping into the ground, staring the grass and Emma's hands as she grabbed at her._

" _Emma," Ruth stared up at her, eyes already glazing over, "Emma."_

" _Ruth, don't go," her bottom lip trembled, "Please. Please, don't go."_

" _Emma," Ruth repeated, reaching up to touch the little girl's cheek softly, "My sweet girl…" her hand fell from Emma's face, limply to the ground as her head lolled to the side._

_Emma cried, too young to understand the pain that was swelling in her, but knowing somehow, that it wasn't going to go away. And knowing that Ruth was gone, and wasn't coming back. The same thing happened to a little lamb she'd grown attached to. And Ruth had held her so tightly as she cried and explained to her what happened. Ruth had made her feel better._

_But now there was no one there to hold her and tell her it was okay. Only the men who had taken Ruth from her._

_They were laughing now as they drew ever nearer, now standing around Emma and Ruth, dismounting from their huge steeds and circling them threateningly._

" _They weren't kidding about that bow," One of the men nodded to the man who had pulled the arrow that ended Ruth's life, "If even you can hit something, surely it's enchanted."_

_The other men laughed at his expense while he grumbled angrily, pulling the bow around his shoulders. He reached down to grab the arrow he'd launched._

" _Don't you touch her!" Emma shouted, slapping his hand away with all the strength the three year old could muster._

" _Well, well," the ring leader clucked his tongue, "We've got a feisty one here don't we? Now what are we gonna do with you? Perhaps put you out of your misery much like your mum?"_

 _They were laughing again, and Emma closed her eyes against the anger and sadness filing her tiny body, it was too much for her to take. She just wanted it to go away. She wanted_ them _to go away. She wanted them gone like how they made Ruth gone._

_With her eyes screwed shut so tightly, she didn't see what the men saw, the gold light spilling around her, darkening around the edges to a murky grey as it reached out for the men, now shouting and stumbling away from the girl._

" _She's a witch! A witch!" one shouted._

_But it was too late for them. The magic reaching out and seizing their hearts as they still beat in their chests, stopping them cold._

_All six men fell to the ground, dead as the woman they were laughing at moments before, with no sign of injury._

_Emma cried for a long time, long into the night. All alone, surrounded by death in a place that had once been her sanctuary._

_She didn't have the strength to react when she heard the pounding hooves of more approaching horses, stirring up the dark beasts who had milled about unattended._

_It wasn't until the new party's leader pulled to a stop, two feet from running her down, that she glanced up._

_He seemed impossibly tall and imposing on the back of his horse, but Emma was too tired to react in fear, "Have you come to kill me too?"_

_The man glanced around, the bodies of the six men, the old woman, then finally back at the little girl._

" _What happened here?" he asked, voice hoarse from earlier shouting._

" _They made her leave." Emma's eyes fell back to Ruth._

" _And what happened to them?" He asked, voice softening._

_Emma shrugged, "I don't know."_

_He dismounted, crouching low to look her in the eye, "What's your name, little one?"_

" _Emma."_

" _Emma, my name is Robin, and I am so sorry for what's happened." He seemed on the edge of crying himself, and Emma found that odd._

" _Why?" she asked._

_He took in a shaky breath, "I'm sorry I was too late to save her."_

" _It's okay," she nodded, "I was too late to save her too."_

_Robin's heart broke at the sound of the three year old's confession, "Emma, do you have anyone else you can be with?"_

_Emma shook her head, another wave of tears spilling over her cheeks._

" _Well then, you'll just have to come with us."_

" _Robin," a voice protested from atop another horse, "We can't have another child traveling with us, with Roland… how will we protect them both?"_

" _We'll find a way." He scooped up the girl, her exhaustion finally catching up to her, eyes slipping closed._

" _Search them for the bow," He glared at Little John, daring him to say something else._

_They had been after the murderous gang of ex dark knights for a week, ever since they had raided their camp, killing three, injuring a dozen more, and making off with the enchanted bow._

_They had caused so much pain and destruction, Robin Hood had vowed their lives would end. He only wished now that he had been quicker. Or, at the very least, shake the hand of the man who had dispatched them for him._

_If only he knew the little girl he held slumbering in his arms was the one responsible for their demise._


	4. Your Place in the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've received a few inquiries as to how Emma arrived in SB 28 years later, I'll explore that later in the story, I promise, but if you're impatient and just MUST know right now, I explained it in a post warning it contains spoilers. whiskeyadams.tumblr.com/post/85945383793/the-price-of-magic-authors-note

Once Ruby heard Emma complain that she needed to find a job, and how hopeless that seemed in the small town, the waitress quickly came up with a plan she thought was golden. If Emma was working at Granny's, that meant she would get more days off.

"It's not that difficult," Ruby waved a hand around the diner, currently in a lull still before the lunch rush, the waitress figured this would be the best time to try and show Emma the ropes, "Once you get the hang of it at least."

"Speak for yourself," the blonde mumbled, currently trying to force the ties on the back of the apron to make a nice bow like it did on Ruby, but her thumbs kept slipping and she just couldn't get it tight enough to stay.

"Here," the brunette snorted, noticing Emma's struggle, grabbing her by the hips and turning her around, taking the straps from her and in a quick practiced move that she could do blind folded, created a neat bow.

"Thanks," Emma blushed, feeling ridiculous and uncomfortable already, but grateful none the less, "For, you know, talking to Granny for me about working here."

"Let's see if you're still thanking me at the end of the day, shall we?" Ruby smirked.

The plates shook slightly as Emma practiced walking between tables and along the booths. She tripped twice before she started cursing the heel on her boots.

How the hell does she do this in six inch heels? Emma pouted, watching Ruby waltz around to the few customers they had while she rubbed her burning calves.

The first time she dropped a dish, she had been busing tables and time slowed in the after math of the clashing sound. Emma let out the breath she had been holding as she watched it, thanking god when it didn't shatter on impact.

"Congratulations," Ruby clapped her on the shoulder, "Dropping a dish is practically an initiation requirement for waitressing."

"Thanks," Emma mumbled, dropping to her knees to pick up the dropped food and plate. Something told her that this would not be the last dropped plate of the day.

And she was right, much to her dismay.

The lunch rush hit the diner, it was awash with impatient customers, demanding their usual and impatient with Emma's ignorance. One short extremely angry man in particular stood out. He was sitting at the bar and Emma reached over to refill his glass, accidently knocking it into his lap.

Granny banned her to the other side of the counter when the man, Leroy, began cursing up a storm and Granny ended up having to assure him his lunch was free.

Balancing the plates grew more and more difficult as her nervousness rose and her palms became slick with sweat. It was only a matter of time before she dropped another dish, this one was full of the man's order, and it landed right in his lap, the scolding soup splashing all over him.

He shot out of his chair, causing Emma to stumble back, right into Ruby, who had been caring more than one person's order in an attempt to pick up Emma's slack. Her heel snapped, and she fell to the floor in a shower of food and soda, plates and glasses shattering on impact, and the waitress was covered in the remains of their lunches.

The man swore and disappeared into the bathroom, the silence after his departure was heavy, until the room erupted in snickering and a few clapping hands and sarcastic remarks.

"Okay, you know what, Em?" Ruby sighed, exasperated.

"I know, I know," Emma winced, untying the apron from around her waist, "Just… I'm sorry. Tell Granny to add it to my bill?" she reached down to give Ruby a hand up, but both ended up slipping and falling back to the floor.

Her tail bone stung like a bitch and her face burned with embarrassment as snickers of laughter slithered between the tables around them. Emma groaned, giving up and laying on the floor in her own mess of spilled food and broken plates.

This day cannot get any worse, she internally declared.

"Miss Swan?"

Scratch that, she opened one eye, letting it trace slowly up from black high heels, over tones legs, the pressed black skirt barely long enough to be classified as business attire, the tailored jacket incasing arms crossed over her chest… she finally came to rest on brown eyes, carefully lined and showing the barest hint of humor.

"Uh, he-hey," Emma stammered, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

"Miss Lucas," her voice was a bit tighter, but Regina nodded to the fallen waitress as well before focusing once again on Emma, "Is everything… alright?"

Emma's blush deepened as the Mayor clearly fought to hide a smirk, "Yeah, it's great," the blonde scrambled to her feet with more grace than she had shown before, pulling Ruby up with her. She tried to brush glass and bits of food off her friend's skirt, but Ruby just rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving Emma alone in the middle of the diner with every eye on her.

"What are you doing here?" Emma squeaked out, wondering if Regina had witnessed any of what lead up to her being sprawled on the floor in the day's special.

Regina merely quirked an eyebrow, deciding to let Emma work it out for herself.

And it was clear on her face when she did, jaw going slack, her hand rubbing the back of her neck, "Lunch, right."

"Yes, lunch," Regina let her eyes travel over Emma's ruined clothes and flushed state, "But perhaps we should reschedule."

"No, no," she looked around to the people sitting at their tables, no longer yelling for their orders, more interested in not looking as if they were eaves dropping on their conversation. Emma shifted form one foot to the other.

"Miss Swan," Regina made a decision, seeing that Emma was clearly uncomfortable with the attention they were receiving, "I seriously doubt you'll be going anywhere any time soon, we can do lunch when your… better put together."

"Are you sure?" Emma worked ot keep her hopeful tone out of her voice, because in reality, Emma wouldn't care if she was covered in dirt head to toe, she just knew that the people in the diner were already laughing at her, she didn't want to embarrass the Mayor as well.

"Yes," Regina gave her a small smile, "Besides, I really should have a working lunch today. The paperwork waiting on my desk is nearly taller than me."

"I'm sorry about that…" She apologized once more, shoving her hands in her pockets and kicking the toe of her boot against the ground.

"Miss Swan, I have to insist you stop apologizing every time we see each other." The Mayor spoke seriously, hands on hips.

"I'm gonna find a way to pay for it, I swear," the blonde insisted, she didn't know much about herself, but she knew she hated the feeling of owing anybody anything.

"And tell me, dear, how is that going?" there it was, a genuine smile finally broke across Regina's face.

Rather than be insulted by the humor the mayor found in her failed job, Emma found herself grinning back. The mayor did look so beautiful when she was smiling, "Unfortunately, I've only dug myself in a deeper hole."

Ruby reappeared, significantly shorter, and Emma realized she was in a pair of flats now, a white take out bag in her hand, "Mayor Mills, your usual."

"Thank you, Miss Lucas." Regina's smile disappeared as she accepted her lunch.

"I thought we were supposed to get lunch?" Emma tilted her head in confusion.

"Oh," Ruby frowned, "I just thought… she gets the same thing every day, I figured that's what she was here for, I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright Miss Lucas, turns out I need it regardless." She looked pointedly at Emma's ruined, tank top and jeans, "Any way," she snapped her eyes away quickly, "I really should get back to the office. Miss Lucas, Miss Swan," she nodded to each of them in turn before spinning on her heel and walking out of the diner.

Emma scrambled after her, catching the door on its backward swing, "Regina." She caught up to the Mayor as she opened her car door.

"Emma," her brow furrowed slightly.

The blonde smiled at hearing her first name, it seemed she only said it when they were alone, "Look, I really am sorry our lunch got screwed up… turns out I'm not the most graceful woman alive."

"Clearly."

"Anyway," Emma's eyes narrowed in faux annoyance, "I really do want to try again, tomorrow maybe?"

"Perhaps, we should give the diner a break from you for a little while," Regina fought a smirk, looking over Emma's shoulder just in time to catch several diner patrons look away.

"Yeah," Emma deflated, "That's probably a good idea."

"How about dinner," Regina found herself speaking before thinking, wanting nothing more than to make that expression on Emma's face disappear, "At my house."

"You'd cook for me?" Emma's face lit up, trying to figure out why the idea made her stomach give a little flip.

"Well, it's not Granny's, but I can cook," Regina smiled. She hadn't planned on having Emma come to her house, but the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. That way they wouldn't be a spectacle for the entire town to gawk at.

"O-okay," Emma nodded, unable to stop herself from looking like a broken bobble head, "Where do you… when should I…?" she couldn't think of what question to ask first, still taken off guard by the Mayor's offer.

She had seen how the citizens of Storybrooke acted around her, skittish and distrustful. And the Mayor clearly didn't think highly of them either, so why was she so different then? Being unable to answer that question made her palms sweat again.

"It's on Mifflin Street, it'll be," she pursed her lips, "Difficult for you to miss, dear. And dinner should be ready at seven."

"Seven," Emma nodded, "Got it."

"I shall see you then, Miss Swan,"

Emma frowned at the name, but quickly hid it behind a forced smile, "I'll be there."

Regina tried to understand why her face fell suddenly, but she didn't have the time or patience to continue to be stared at by the slack jawed idiots in the diner. She was so distracted by the events that had unfolded, that she almost missed the gong of the clock tower announcing midday.

She slammed on her breaks and looked up at it, frowning severely. The clock above the library hadn't moved in twenty eight years. It was an eyesore above the closed down building, but for some reason, she could never get the paperwork through to have it torn down, and every time they sent Leroy up to fix it, it never worked.

And yet, there it was, ticking away. And at the correct time, no less.

First a stranger finds her way into her town, then the clock started moving… perhaps that meant the curse was weakening.

Or, part of her argued, perhaps the storm just blew Emma in and knocked something lose in the gears. It could be nothing but a string of inevitable coincidences.

Or it could be dangerous. It could signal that her perfect world was about to come to an end. It was all going to come crumbling down around her. She needed to know more about the curse she cast, she needed to pay her father's mausoleum a visit as soon as she managed to get out of her Mayoral duties.

It was a good thing Henry had an appointment with Dr. Hopper, she wasn't going to be able to focus on much until she had some answers.

Regina drove the rest of the way to city hall with a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach…

Mary Margret Blanchard was knee deep in arts and craft supplies. She had skipped her own lunch to get her next lesson ready while the children were out. They were going to make bird houses, but she couldn't seem to find that container of paint that had been there.

She rose up, standing on her tip toes, reaching for the top shelf that she couldn't see. Her hand came across something hard, and covered in an inch of dust. The teacher frowned as she pulled it down.

It wasn't the blue paint she had been looking for. It was an old leather bound book, the words Once Upon a Time scrawled across in golden lettering. It was heavy, and a quick flip through revealed it to be filled with different tales, written in tiny print and accompanied by beautiful artwork.

"Where did you come from?" She stopped on one tale in particular, the picture catching her eye.

"Snow White and Prince Charming," she traced the description with her finger, but was more occupied with studying the so called Prince Charming. He looked strangely familiar, almost like-

"Miss Blanchard?"

Mary Margret jumped, spinning to face the owner of the small voice that had given her such a fright, "Henry," she breathed, "You startled me."

"I'm sorry, I wanted to talk to you about- hey what's that?" he tilted his head at the book she now held clasped tightly to her chest.

"This?" she glanced down at it as if she'd never seen it before, "Oh, it's… nothing." She put it down on the closest desk, "What are you doing in here, Henry, you're supposed to be at lunch recess."

The little boy shrugged, moving to sit in his own desk, "I don't really feel like playing…"

Mary Margret frowned, the boy's sadness tugging on her own heart rather violently. While she loved all of her students, the Mayor's son always did seem to be closer to her heart than the others.

"Miss Blanchard, can I ask you a question?" he tilted his head, his tone more serious than any other ten year old she knew.

"Of course." She nodded for him to go on.

"What…" he began before seeming to change his mind, "What are your parents like?"

"My parents?" she pulled back in confusion.

"Yeah," he fiddled with a pencil, twirling it in his hands like a small sword.

"I… I can't remember…" She admitted, frowning, "It's been so long since I've seen them…" she was struck with a sudden, over whelming sadness.

"It's okay," Henry sighed, "I don't even know my parents."

"What do you mean," Mary Margret shook her head, working to focus on the small boy once more.

"Did you know that I was adopted?" Henry suddenly looked very angry, his childhood rage rolling off him in waves, looking so much like the Mayor when arguing with other city officials, "My Mom isn't even my real mom."

"Henry," Mary Margret chastised, "Your mother is still your mother, even though she didn't give birth to you, she still raised you and loves you."

"If she loves me, why does she keep lying to me?" Henry demanded, "She won't even tell me anything about my birth parents!"

"Henry, sometimes parents find it hard to talk about things with their kids," she tried, "I know your mom can seem… well, you know. But I know that she loves you, and I don't think she would do anything to hurt you. Perhaps if you give her a little time, she'll tell you about how you became hers."

The teacher couldn't understand why she was suddenly defending the Mayor. The woman clearly detested her, though she couldn't remember what she had ever done to deserve it. But this wasn't about Regina Mills, or Mary Margret, this was about this small boy, and all the anger and sadness he seemed to be teeming with.

"I just feel like I can't trust her anymore," he grumbled, "She's been lying to me my whole life! I don't know who I am because she won't tell me!" he seemed on the verge of tears now.

Mary Margret's heart broke for him, he just wanted what every child wanted, to know their story, their families story. And finding out he was adopted meant he believed he didn't have one. At least, not one anyone would tell him about.

She was struck with a sudden idea, "Here." She lifted the tome off the desk, crossing the small distance to him, putting a finger under his chin and tilting it up so their eyes met, "Read this."

The ten year old frowned at the book, "Miss Blanchard, I'm not a little kid." The disdain in his tone and on his face reminded Mary Margret of his mother once more. Despite what the boy thought, the Mayor was clearly his mom and left an imprint on him.

Mary Margret let out a fake gasp of indignation, "You're never too old to read fairytales! In fact," she went on, "I think the world would be a far better place if more adults still read fairytales."

Henry looked incredulously between the book and his teacher, making no move to take the book from her.

"Come on, Henry," she plead, "Just… give it a try."

"Okaaay," he rolled his eyes, giving in at last, opening to the first page.

Mary Margret smiled brightly at him before turning back to her task, realizing she still didn't have the supplies for their project, "Henry, will you be okay by yourself while I go find some paint?"

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded, already absorbed in his book.

The teacher grinned before walking away. If it were any other student, she wouldn't have trusted them alone in the class, but Henry was an exceptional little boy, and Mary Margret knew he didn't have many friends, if any, she couldn't bare to send him back out there alone.

She spared him one last look before disappearing down the hall.

After the diner fiasco, Ruby sent Emma back to the inn, telling her she could borrow something from her closet while she ran her clothes through the wash. She thought, for some crazy reason, it was going to be easy to find clothes to wear that would be less embarrassing than walking around in her stained clothes.

Boy, was she in for a rude awakening.

There were miniskirts and halter tops and even skimpier clothing that caused Emma to blush just looking at.

After several minutes, she finally found a pair of dark wash jeans to replace hers. They were just as tight, but her feet ended up still half covered. She grumbled and rolled the cuffs up, glad when her boots hid the fact.

The red plaid button up, at least, offered more modesty and protection from the elements than her own tank top, so that when she found herself wandering around the streets of Storybrooke later, she was protected from the slight chill in the wind.

She explored the town, all five blocks of it. It had such a small town, almost homey feel to it, she found it strangely comforting. It was surrounded by thick woods on three sides and the ocean on the other.

Rather than make her feel trapped, it gave her a sense of comfort. The woods felt familiar, and the constant smell of the sea made everything feel clean. If she had to be trapped somewhere with no memories, she was glad it was here.

After an hour of wandering aimlessly, she found herself cutting close to the forest once more, the trees drawing her in, tempting her to go for a hike, to be surrounded by the wildlife and peace… but the bite in the October air was pushing her to return to the inn for her jacket, not to mention the fact that these boots weren't really made for trekking through the woods.

She turned to cross the road, but movement caught her eye.

Was that a wolf? Emma squinted her eyes, cursing her eyesight as the pale beast sulked through the underbrush, making it difficult to decipher what it was. Emma didn't think there were any wolves in Maine.

It was no longer a question though, as the animal stopped, sensing eyes on it. He lifted his head, looking right at Emma. One eye was blood red, the other black as night.

Emma was sure she must've been seeing things, there was no way-

The sound of someone leaning on their horn accompanied by the squealing of tires suddenly drew Emma back to the present. She hadn't stopped walking, even after the wolf distracted her, so she had ended up in the middle of the road, where she was almost run down by what looked to be an old style police cruiser.

"What do you think you're doin'?" the man stepped out, wide eyed and gesturing emphatically towards her, the car had come within two feet of hitting her.

"Sorry," Emma mumbled, hands held up in front of her, "I didn't realize…" she considered asking him if he saw the wolf, but a quick glance over her shoulder revealed that it had disappeared into the wood.

"Are you Emma?" he asked suddenly, stepping towards her as if she was a skittish animal and any sudden movements would cause her to bolt, "Emma Swan?"

"Yeah?" it came out sounding like a question, but the presence of the police officer seemed to be putting her on edge, even though he didn't really look like a police officer. He wasn't even wearing a uniform. And the scruffy look he had looked like it belonged on a model, not a public servant.

"My name's Graham," he explained, "I'm the sheriff here. I had a few questions about your accident, would you mind coming back to the station with me?"

Emma wanted to refuse, but knew she really didn't have a choice. It had only been a matter of time, she supposed. In fact, it was strange the police hadn't questioned her sooner, wasn't it?

She hesitated for a moment longer before shrugging, "Sure."

"Great," he smiled, moving to open the back door for her.

"Seriously?" she rose an eyebrow, looking from the backseat to him.

"I can't have you ride up front," he shrugged, "It's against regulation."

She let her eyes wander over his state of dress before meeting his eyes once more, "Yeah because you seem to be following regulation to a t." she mumbled before giving in and sliding into the back.

She tried not to flinch when the door nearly slammed shut behind her. Now she felt like a trapped animal.

The sheriff huffed as he got back in the driver's seat, restarting his car. It clicked uselessly for a moment, having to slam on his breaks causing the engine to stall.

"Come on, you stupid-," he twisted the key again, bouncing slightly in his seat, screwing his eyes shut, after another moment of sputtering, the engine finally turned over and he gave a little celebratory shout that had Emma rolling her eyes.

They were quite on the short drive to the police station, Emma had seen it on her walk, but hadn't spared it a second glance.

"Slow day?" Emma glanced around the empty station, the clear desks and vacant cell. The only place that held any evidence of being used was the sheriff's office.

They sat at an empty deputy's desk, Emma kicking her feet up on the desk while Graham perched on the edge with a crooked grin, "No cats needed rescuing today."

Emma thought best not to ask, choosing to nod instead, "So, you wanted to ask me some questions? I don't want to keep you from protecting the good people of Storybrooke."

"Right to it then," he pulled out a small notebook, "Tell me Miss Swan, what happened on the night of your accident."

Emma frowned at the way he stressed the last word, "I don't really know. I know it was raining, and then… well then I woke up in the hospital with the Mayor and Dr. Whale looking down on me."

"Right, well," he cleared his throat, still looking skeptical, "Your car was driven right into the sign at the edge of town-,"

"I already promised the Mayor I'd find a way to pay for it." She assured him quickly.

"That's not what I'm concerned about, Miss Swan," He rose to his feet at the same time she took her feet from the desk, "there was no sign that you tried to avoid the sign."

"I can't… it was all a blur." Emma shook her head.

"What I'm concerned with, Miss Swan, is if you're going to be a danger to yourself or anyone in this town." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Emma shot to her feet, her voice climbing, "You think I wanted this? To be stuck in a town where I don't even know my own fucking name? With no way to leave or make money with the bill I'm slowly racking up?"

"To be fair, I don't really know much about you, Miss," he seemed to draw back from her sudden outburst, "You just showed up here, and you've made quite an impression, thus far. I believe Mr. Gold said something about you throwing a bowl of hot soup on his lap?"

Emma blushed furiously, "That was an accident… Ruby was trying to train me to be a waitress."

"Oh? And how did that work out for you?" He smiled.

Emma fell back into her chair with a huff, "Well, I learned I'm not a very graceful person, so it's safe to assume I'm not a waitress. And I think Granny might lift the ban before she threatened…"

Graham laughed, sounding so exuberant that a smile was pulled from Emma. The sheriff himself seemed shocked that she was able to pull such a sound from him.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." She mumbled.

"No, no, sorry," he tried to get a hold of himself, "It's just, Ruby makes it look so easy."

"Tell me about it," Emma began to feel more comfortable, "I mean, have you seen the shoes she wears? Where do you even find heels that high in this town?"

"I've got no idea." He laughed.

They spoke for a while, avoiding touchy topics- such as anything to do with Emma's crash or her past- talking instead about different people in town that Emma had met thus far, the doctors and nurses, Mary Margret, Ruby and Granny, and finally Regina Mills.

"She has her hands in everything," he smirked, something else flashing behind his eye that set Emma's teeth on edge for whatever reason, her good mood slowly bleeding out.

"Including the sheriff's department?" She asked before she could stop herself.

Graham's smile merely widened, "Well, she is the mayor."

The blonde was suddenly filled with an inexplicable anger, and she wanted to find a way to wipe that smile from the sheriff's almost smug face, but they were interrupted by the sound of the door slamming closed accompanied with the quick tap-tap of high heels on the linoleum floor of the building.

"Graham?" a voice tinged with worry and panic reached them a moment before the Mayor did. Her wide eyed gaze and quick breathing exuded an air of urgency, and Emma found herself on her feet without thinking.

"Emma? What are you…?" her presence seemed to take the Mayor back for a minute, then Graham stood and she was back on track, "Sheriff, I am in need of your service."

Her choice of words had Emma's lip twitching before she got a handle on her reactions, "What is it?" Graham stepped forward, grabbing his jacket form the back of the chair.

"Henry, he's missing," her voice was slowly climbing with fear, "He apparently left school at lunch, and Dr. Hopper said he never showed up for his appointment. I was waiting for him to come home, but he never…"

It was then that Emma realized it had gotten quite late in the time she and Graham had spoken, and the Mayor's worry was spreading to her.

"Right, let's go have a drive around shall we," Graham began herding Regina out the door, "Don't worry, kids do this all the time, he can't have gone far. Emma, we'll have to reschedule this meeting." The sheriff nodded to her so she wouldn't feel as if he was just ditching her.

"Oh, dinner." Regina looked at Emma again, turning in Graham's arm to look at her once more, asking Emma for permission with her eyes to postpone their meal once more.

"Don't worry about it," Emma spoke quickly, shooing them a little with her hands, "Go, go find your kid, Madam Mayor."

Emma stood awkwardly in the middle of the police station for a moment, watching the door, unsure of what to do.

She decided there wasn't much she could do, and left, walking back to the inn, lost in her own thoughts. Trying to work through everything that had happened over the last few hours. Her and Graham's conversation, the way he spoke of the Mayor…

No, Emma forced those thoughts form her head, it wasn't any of her business what the Mayor and the Sheriff did in their spare time. She had been in this town for all of two days, she was a passer through, she wasn't entitled to explanations form anyone.

Still, she wished someone could explain the spiky feeling that was choking her.

The worst part was that Emma was unable to get Regina's panicked expression out of her mind. The fear that had filled her face when her son didn't come home. It was understandable, looking out the window now Emma could see how fast night was falling as well as the temperature, and that wasn't even taking into consideration the fact that, apparently, there were wolves in the woods.

"That's it," Emma snapped, grabbing her leather jacket from the bed, there was no way she was going to be able to stand by and do nothing when Regina's kid was missing.

With her hands shoved in her pockets, Emma walked back to the diner, figuring that was the best place to start looking for him.

"Oh no, you are not allowed back in here yet." Ruby frowned from where she stood beside a crying Mary Margret.

"What happened?" Emma ignored the waitress, sitting across from the distraught woman.

"Henry's missing," she explained through hiccups.

"Yeah, the Mayor all but ripped her head off." Ruby mumbled, handing her best friend more tissue.

"What? Why?"

"Mary Margret's Henry's teacher," Ruby waved her off, "So when the kid decided to ditch school, she's the first one to be blamed."

"I should have called her sooner to tell her that he was gone," the teacher sniveled, "I knew something was wrong with him, and now he's god knows where, and it's gonna start raining soon…"

"Wait, wait," Emma put her hands up, "Back up, what was wrong with him?"

"He had just found out that he was adopted," Mary Margret frowned, "He just seemed so angry and sad, I didn't know how to help him, so I gave him a book to read."

Of course, Emma rolled her eyes, as far as teachers were concerned, there wasn't a problem in the world that couldn't be solved with reading a good book.

"Tell me about Henry," Emma prodded, "What does he like? Does he have any friends that he could be with?"

"Not really," the brunette tilted her head in thought, "He's kind of a loner, not very many friends in class. He mostly reads comics and writes. When I left him in the class at lunch with the book, I wasn't even worried that he would do something bad. Henry is a good kid, just a little lonely and sad."

"You left him in the class alone?" Emma asked, her mind working already.

"Well, yeah, he was reading the book I gave him. He seemed really interested, I didn't want to disturb him…"

"And what book did you give him?"

"What? Nothing, it's just some old fairytales."

"Is that something he would normally read?"

"He likes fantasy stuff, I suppose. He always had a big imagination… where are you going?" Mary Margret demanded, confused after the rapid fire questions that Emma would just get up and leave the diner.

But Emma didn't stop to explain herself, the gears in her mind were turning, and she knew, she just knew where she could find the kid. Because in her mindless exploring that day, she had happened upon an old, rickety wooden castle. Just the thing a kid with a big imagination and a book of fairytales would enjoy.

The only problem was, the thing that had Emma practically running down the streets, was she had gotten curious, struck by a sudden childish urge and walked along the dilapidated playground that day. The way it creaked and moaned and shifted underneath her feet had her quickly jumping off before it could collapse beneath her weight.

The thought of the kid being on it when the warped wood finally gave out….

She slowed her pace when she approached the old castle, lit by the stars and moon to give it a true fantasy feel, she was relieved to find it still standing, and even more so when the sillouet of a little kid could be seen sitting on the bridge.

Emma approached cautiously, not wanting to startle him, "Hey, you're Henry, right?"

The kid's head snapped up, "Who are you?" he demanded. He had floppy brown hair that nearly fell in front of his eyes, he had to tilt his head slightly back to get it out of his face.

"My name's Emma," she gave an awkward wave, "I'm a friend of your mom's and Sheriff Graham's. Your mom is really worried about you kid. She's been looking all over for you."

"She has?" He at least had the presence to sound a little guilty.

"Yeah you really scared her." Emma took a step forward.

"I didn't mean," he started before his face darkened, "I didn't really want to see her yet."

"What, why?"

"She lied to me." He explained in a tone that made it seem like this was supposed to be obvious, "She's not my mom."

"Hey, kid," Emma shook her head, "Don't say stuff like that. Your mom loves you more than anything in the world, trust me, I've seen the way she looks when she talks about you."

"Yeah, but she's not who she says she is." He grumbled, looking down briefly, and that was the first time Emma noticed the huge book in his hands.

"What's that?" Emma nodded.

Henry pursed his lips and tilted his head, seeming to size Emma up, "I don't think you're ready."

"Why not?" Emma demanded, feeling affronted by the little kid regardless of the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Adults… they never believe kids when they tell them things." He explained, "So if I tell you, you'll just think I'm crazy."

"Try me." Emma put her hands on her hips, but Henry hesitated long enough for Emma to notice he was shivering, and she suddenly remembered herself, "Never mind, look kid, you need to go back home, now, you're mom's worried sick and it's getting late."

He sighed heavily, slipping the book into his back pack.

Emma's heart skipped a beat when Henry jumped off the bridge, stumbling to his feet so that Emma had to reach out and steady him, "Aren't you just graceful?" She joked to calm the pounding in her chest.

He huffed before adjusting his jacket with a mumbled whatever.

"You live here?" Emma tried to keep the awe from her voice as they walked up the drive for 108 Mifflin.

"Henry!" the front door was open and the Mayor was rushing out to greet them, gathering her son in a tight hug and Emma saw her shoulders sag slightly in relief, "Are you alright? Where have you been?" she looked him over, grabbing his shoulders to get a better look.

"Mom, I'm, fine." Henry pulled away from her, pushing passed a stunned Sheriff Graham to get into the house.

Emma saw a flash of pain in the Mayor's eyes before it was quickly covered by a politician's smile, "Miss Swan, thank you so much."

Emma shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets, "I know it's not my place or anything, but he just seemed a little sad to me, I didn't think he meant to scare you."

The mayor gave a tight smile that was more forced than the last, "Well, how would you like to come in and have some of the best apple sider you've ever tasted?"

As tempting as that was, the picture of Graham and Regina standing next to each other on the porch twisted Emma's stomach, "Maybe another time," Emma smiled apologetically.

"Of course." Regina tried not to feel disappointed.

"Goodnight, Madam Mayor," Emma nodded as she backed away, not wanting to torture herself further, "Sheriff." She tried not to sneer.

She walked half a block before the sound of a siren beeping at her pulled her to a stop, the sheriff in his patrol car pulled up to the curb beside her, "Emma, come on, I'll give you a ride to the inn."

"It's alright," Emma waved, "I could use the exercise, and besides, I wouldn't want to cut into your time with the mayor."

"Don't be ridiculous, Swan," he huffed, "It's going to start raining soon."

Emma's initial instinct was to refuse again, despite how well they seemed to have been getting along at the station, at this moment, she didn't think she could stand to be trapped in an enclosed space with him, but it was that moment when the until then clear skies decided to cloud and open up a down pour on her head.

Graham fought a smirk as Emma rolled her eyes and walked around to the passenger side door- regulations be damned.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something?" Graham began as he carefully navigated the streets of Storybrooke.

"Oh?" Emma's heart thudded.

"How did you find him, anyway?" Graham carefully studied her out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "It…. Just made sense, after I spoke to Mary Margret, it kinda clicked. Honestly I have no idea how I did it. Maybe it's what I did," Emma nodded, feeling the rightness of her sentence suddenly, "Finding Henry, it was almost like an instinct."

"Well," Graham shrugged nonchalantly, "It's definitely an instinct I would very much like to use."

"What do you mean?" Emma gave him a funny look.

"I have it in my budget to hire a deputy," he scratched the back of his neck, suddenly looking very nervous, "And I could really use the help, if you're up for it."

"I dunno Graham, I don't really know the first thing about being a cop." Emma admitted, briefly flashing back to that morning when she failed spectacularly at being a waitress.

"It's okay, neither do I," he shrugged before breaking out in a smile at Emma's shocked expression, "I'm just kidding, Emma. Come on, it's not that difficult, and I'll train ya."

"I don't know." Emma frowned.

"Well, how about you just sleep on it," he put the car in park and Emma realized they had made it back to the inn, "And you let me know your decision tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Emma nodded "Alright."

FLASHBACK

Emma spent the next eleven years wandering the forest with Robin Hood and his Merry Men, as well as little Roland, who was once the same age as Emma, but as she grew, he stayed frozen at the age of three.

Her new nomadic style family did the best they could to teach the orphaned girl. The men, in truth, had no real idea of what they were doing, but they did their best. They taught her how to wild a sword and handle a bow. How to hunt for animals and the perfect mark on the road to steal from.

By the time she was twelve, Emma was helping pull her weight. She brought down prey twice her size, could serve as a distraction to steal form the ex-guards who haunted the roads, slip in and out of places unnoticed.

She wouldn't talk about what happened the night Robin found her in the field surrounded by dead bodies, she would tell them who Pinocchio was and why she called out for him sometimes. She refused to talk about Ruth… she shoved it so deeply with in her that by the time she was fourteen, Emma could remember nothing of her life before joining the Merry Men.

She enjoyed her life- though sometimes she found herself longing for a home to call her own, the forest was always beautiful and offering exciting adventures. And she loved her surrogate family, it felt like having twelve over protective big brothers. She was teased endlessly but protected fiercely.

She could have very well gone for the remainder of her life and been happy, if not for one cold winter day.

Robin had left her in charge of looking after Roland, patting her on the top of her head, ruffling her riotous curls with a smirk, "Look after the boy, little swan, we'll be back before you know it."

"I'm not little anymore," she smacked his hand away, hating the way her old nickname still had yet to disappear, "I can go with you guys, I'm good at stealing."

"I'm not sure that's something to be too proud of," he barked out a short burst of laughter, "But listen here, out of all these children, you and I are the only mature adults, you're the only one I trust to look after Roland. Can you do that for me, swan?"

Emma made a show of sighing heavily, "I suppose I could, but only if I get to go with you guys next time."

Robin pursed his lips, scratching the scruff on his chin, "I'll strike you a deal then, if you take good care of Robin, be sure that he stays out of trouble, Little John will look after him next time, and you get to go in his place."

Emma immediately perked up, "Alright."

"That's a good girl." He smiled before gathering his cloak around him, and disappearing with his men into the woods.

A small hand found its way into Emma's, she glanced down to see Roland's fearful gaze watching his father depart. He always pretended to be a big boy when the men were around, but when it was only Emma and Roland, he let his worry for them show.

"Come on," she gathered him up, "Let's find you something to eat."

Robin had gone off to find some new magical item that had been circling around, the Merry Men had taken it upon themselves to gather up the dangerous items that had been left unattended when the huge magic practitioners had disappeared with the curse, someone named Rumplestiltskin and one they only referred to as The Evil Queen.

They were thieves with a cause, never stealing for themselves or merely for pleasure, only to insure the safety of those left behind, to insure a future- should one ever come. Magic was too dangerous for anyone to wield, that much was obvious now, it was made illegal and wasn't tolerated.

It wasn't common knowledge, the identity of the thieves acquiring the magical objects, nor what they were doing with them. But one moment of mercy on a man who had seen Little John's face lead to a mad man with a vendetta finding Emma and Roland alone at their current campsite.

If you asked Emma any of the events that unfolded, she would tell you it was all a blur, one moment, she and Roland were giggling, playing hide and go seek in the woods, the next, a man in black armor was pressing a wicked dagger into Roland's throat, demanding Emma revile the hiding spot of some mystical object or other.

She doesn't remember begging for Roland's life, or the tears that fell from her face… she was only aware of the rage that seemed to bloom in her chest and explode out her fingertips. The man was thrown away, his head connecting with a tree, echoing sickeningly around them.

Emma felt completely drained as she held a shaking Roland to her chest.

The Merry Men had returned successful, just in time to see Emma with a faint golden glow surrounding her, throw a man twice her size into a tree without so much as touching him.

The only explanation was magic.

They swore an oath to protect the realm from magic, she should have turned Emma over to the knights, they should have killed her, but they loved Emma like she was their own, and she had saved the little boy's life. However, they were afraid, the scene they had come upon when she was a little girl suddenly made more sense. So, they believed they were left with but one choice: to leave her, in the dead of night, with her sword and bow and nothing else.

Emma didn't understand what had happened, didn't believe magic had been used that day, and if it had it hadn't been by her. She didn't understand why her family was leaving her or what she had done. All she knew was she was on her own.

With the skills she learned with the Merry Men, Emma taught herself to be self-sufficient. She could defend herself, provide for herself, she could survive. No matter how lonely it got for her, she believed Robin when he said it was better this way.

To earn money, Emma found the people on the wanted posters plastered over villages and trees, turning them into the knights who had become the law of the Enchanted Forest. It was surprisingly easy for her, finding people seemed to be in her blood, and it was definitely a lot less complicated than searching for and tracking magical objects.

At least, it was supposed to be, until during her seventeenth year, with more than a hundred bounties under her belt, she was tasked by Sir Lancelot personally to find a man, a thief who had been using powerful magic. She was the only of their huntsman who knew how to deal with magic, after her stint with Robin Hood.

She thought it would be incredibly simple, the man wasn't exactly subtle, and he stood out like a sore thumb in the villages he traveled through, he only took two weeks to track.

She sat high in a tree, looking down at a path she knew he would be venturing down next, and sure enough, he waltzed down the road, whistling a jovial tune to himself without a care in the world.

Emma smiled to herself before dropping down, nearly landing on top of him, before knocking him flat on his back, "Don't move!" she barked.

He seemed stunned, at a loss for words, but a smile broke across his face and he began to chuckle, "Are you serious? They send Goldie Locks after me? I told them I would be gone soon they didn't have to-,"

"I'm not Goldie Locks," Emma made a face, "And the Knights of the Round table have a warrant for you."

"I didn't mean actually… never mind," the man rose to his feet, brushing himself off, "What's your name?"

"Emma Swan," she squinted at him, hand on the pommel of her short sword.

"Well, Emma, I'm Neal," he smiled crookedly at her, "And I'm not going with you, I have places to be, people to avoid, so if you'll excuse me-,"

He stupidly tried to walk around her, he was unable to see what she hit him with, he only knew it hurt terribly and the world around him began to fade.

"Nice to meet you, Neal,"


End file.
